The Photographer
by Hockey35
Summary: The BAU is summoned to Richmond to stop a serial killer who is copying the MO of a killer from Hotch's past. But when the two cases become too much alike, questions are raised as to whether Hotch shot the right man 9 years ago, or is covering up mistakes.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is a fic where a case from Hotch's past (when it was just Rossi and Gideon with Hotch) comes back to haunt the current team. There will be no pairing, as I don't feel that anyone in the series should really have a relationship, except for maybe Garcia and Morgan. There also won't be any sexual violence because I believe that Hotch would die before he let a man violate him. I'm sorry, but Hotch's lack of emotions, especially after Haley's death, just doesn't allow me to see him in a relationship, either. Also, the masochist in me was very sad to see that there aren't many fics where Hotch really gets knocked around, so I wanted to add one for everyone to enjoy. Please, let me know if you feel the characters have gone OOC, because this is my first CM fan fic. As always, please R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters, but Aaron Hotchner owns my heart. As does Spencer Reid.**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence**

---

Hotch woke with a start as someone rapped on his door, his left hand instinctively reaching for his gun which was safely holstered at his hip. His heavy eyes lifted and fixated on the petite blond standing in the door frame. After a few moments he places his hands on his desk, relaxed at the realization that it was Agent Jareau standing there. Aaron Hotchner, the Unit Chief of the BAU, wiped the sleep from his eyes and allowed his steely composure to reclaim his features. "Yes JJ?"

Jennifer Jareau pushed her arms out slightly to draw the man's attention to the manila folders in her arms. The rest of the team was trickling into the conference room nonchalantly as JJ entered Hotch's office. "Sir, this case just came across my desk." She handed her supervisor a folder containing a copy of the case file. "I'll prep the team. See you on the plan." JJ gave him a knowing look and exited his office, shutting the door behind her.

Hotch placed his heavy head in his hands. He had not slept in days and was generally unfocused. Haley had been dead for almost two months, Foyet gone for the same period of time. Jack was home safe with his Aunt Jessica and the team was together, unchanged – other than Garcia's red hair. Everything was back in place, yet Hotch still couldn't sleep. He knew part of it was PTSD – post traumatic stress disorder – but he still shouldn't have been so jumpy.

Taking a deep breath, Hotch opened the case file and began to read the details. The victim was John Victor, a 37 year old local pediatrician who's mangled body had been found in his front yard after having been missing for three weeks. Signs of extreme torture were evident on the body, supported by the DVD's of his kidnapping and murder, along with photographs and body parts that were sent to document his torture to the family. Something about it felt so familiar, but he just couldn't seem to put his finger on it. He shrugged the notion aside and finished reading the case file. Smoothing out his suit, he grabbed his go-bag and headed towards the black SUV's. They needed to get to Richmond.

---

A lanky man extended his skinny legs from the SUV, squinting under the harsh sun that offended his eyes. The young doctor ran his thin hand through his curly, brown, shoulder length hair as he watched the rest of his team exit the two, black Chevy SUV's. "Morgan, would you hurry up?" Spencer Reid batted away the crumpled up McDonald's drive thru receipt that was flung at him by the muscular agent in response to his snarky comment.

Aaron Hotchner shook his head at how juvenile his team could behave, but he knew it was necessary for them to relax and survive this job. He led his team into the Richmond Police Department, shaking the hand of a well known detective – to him anyways. He was about 6'4", very muscular build, and one could tell just by glancing at him that you didn't want to get into a physical altercation with him, but Hotch didn't falter as he greeted him. "Detective Neal, good to see you again – not under the circumstances, of course."

"Like wise, Agent Hotchner." The bald headed, grey eyed Detective gave the Unit Chief a grim nod in response, looking at the rest of the team. "I see you brought a whole army with you this time." He stretched out his hand as Hotch introduced him to the team. "Detective Neal, these are SSA's Rossi, Prentiss, Jareau, Morgan and Dr. Reid." Each member shook the Detective's hand, Spencer simply waving, each uttering a soft hello. He turned and led the rest of the team into the large conference room that had been set up for the BAU. "I'll leave you to get started on the case. We'd like to get this done before we have another victim in the hands of this lunatic." The Detective looked at the team and left, closing the door behind them.

There was already one evidence board set up, covered in pictures, letters, and evidence from and old case. A closed case. One of Hotch's early cases. It all flooded back to him and he immediately realized why the case file seemed so familiar. "The Photographer." Rossi raised a brow, looking at Hotch skeptically. "That scum bag who ended it with suicide-by-cop when you cornered him 9 years ago?" Hotch stepped towards the evidence board, staring at the mug shot of the now deceased man who was deemed to be 'The Photographer'. His silence answered the older agent's question in the positive. "I knew this case seemed familiar," Hotch turned to face his team and continued, "A copy-cat killer. Michael Ferracci pulled a gun on me after I cornered him when we connected him to the murders. The case was closed because after he died, the killings stopped. We had DNA evidence that he was with one of the women before she died. He claimed that they were dating, but her parents insisted that they had broken it off long ago. The final straw was when we found out he had worked on every one of the victim's cars. It was their only connection. The case was solid so he took the only way he could out, the whole time screaming that he didn't do it. He's been dead for 9 years. Why would these murders occur now?" Hotch fell back into silence as he continued to study the evidence board of the decade old case. "If this new killer is anything like Ferracci then he already has his next victim in his sights and a plan to make them suffer."

Emily Prentiss sat down at the table, looking over the new evidence and organizing it as Reid placed it on the new board. Morgan looked at Hotch, waiting for an order. "Hotch, why don't you give us the profile of the original killer so we can understand this one?" Aaron looked at his team and nodded. He didn't particularly want to relive this brutal case, but the more they knew, the safer everyone would be.

"This UnSub is a white male in his late twenties to early forties. He's a sociopathic killer who shows absolutely no remorse for what he's done and a narcissist. It's all about getting credit for his kills. He is working a steady job with flexible hours. He is in a position of power, possibly even the owner of his own business. He has no family but does have substantial ties to the community. He was likely beaten by his father as a child and resents his mother for not protecting him. Victimology was useless because he chose victims of all ages, race, gender, and social class. He is meticulous and will not make a mistake unless we start taking some of his publicity. We believe the point of photographing and videotaping his victims is to force their loved one watch and do nothing as they're tortured, just as his mother did with him." Hotch pointed to the picture of Michael Ferracci, the original Photographer. "Ferracci was 27, owned his own auto-repair shop and grew up in an abusive home. He moved out when he was 17 and was living on the streets where he was nailed with Assault, Vandalism, Grand Theft Auto, and Armed Robbery. He was sentenced to 10 years but got out in 3 on good behavior. When he was 22, his parents died instantly in a car accident, robbing him of his chance to exact revenge and triggering his psychotic rampage. He took a man or woman who was in a relationship, took pictures of their beatings and sent them to their loved ones to simulate what his mother did: watching helplessly. He murdered 20 people during a 5 year period here in the Richmond area."

Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to erase the images of the disfigured bodies that would show up with a DVD of their brutal death on the family's doorstep. "He recorded the kidnapping of the victim and left a DVD copy along with a personal affect of the victim in their loved one's mail box. The personal affect was left behind to not only get inside the family's head, but to prove that they truly had their loved one. He took pictures of each individual torture session with the victim and sent them to the families along with a piece of the victim, whether it be a tooth, finger, hair… whatever. After a varying amount of time, usually depending on the resiliency of the victim, their mangled bodies would show up on the family's property with a DVD documenting their gruesome death." Hotch took a seat and looked at his team, who couldn't take their eyes off of the pictures of the victims on the evidence board.

JJ was amazed at how Hotch could say all that without his voice wavering once. She kept her eyes on her superior, not wanting to see the pictures anymore. "Hotch, how do you want to handle the media? They're already in a frenzy because it's the return of the Photographer and things will only get worse now that we're here." He nodded in agreement. "We need to rob this UnSub of his power. Inform the media that while this is the work of a copy-cat, it is some of the sloppiest work we've ever seen. This in itself should enrage him to the point that he will show himself." Hotch turned to Derek Morgan and pointed to his younger colleague. "Morgan, you and Reid go to the Victor residence. Interview his wife, Casey, and see what you can find. Maybe there's a connection between Victor and one of the original victims. Rossi and Prentiss, go to the morgue and find out the COD. Look for comparisons in torture methods. We could be looking at a relative who wants to finish Ferracci's work." The dark haired agent pulled out his phone in a dismissive gesture and watched his team disperse on their separate missions. He pushed the speed dial number 8 and heard it pick up after only one ring.

"Fountain of Infinite Knowledge, bow before my superiority." Penelope Garcia, the BAU's spunky Technical Analyst, had a knack for coming up with her catchy greetings, though Hotch always took them in stride and treated them as an everyday greeting. "Garcia, I need you to get me everything you can on a John Victor. Look to see if he had any ties to the original Photographer case that could possibly make him a target now. Places of work, car repairs, patients, interactions with the Ferracci family. Anything." Steady clicking could be heard in the background as Garcia typed away feverishly. "Your wish is my command. I'll get back to ya." Aaron flipped his phone closed, ending the call, and looked at the evidence board of both the new and old cases. "Why did you wait so long?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Ok, so I was going to torture you guys and update weekly, but I figure I didn't really give you enough with Chapter 1 to get you hooked. So, if I get enough of a response (and reviews, I want to know you guys are at least reading!) then I will update regularly. Otherwise, I will be forced to end with constant cliff hangers and only update once a week! BWAHAH! So, here is Chapter 2. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own Criminal Minds, but thus far Hotch is beating Reid in the battle for my heart.**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence.**

**---**

VICTOR HOME

Richmond, VA

SSA's Morgan and Reid exited their dark SUV when they reached the latest victim's home. They made their way past the police taped off area where Mr. Victor's body had been found and up to the front door. Before Spencer could knock, a slender woman had opened the door to greet them. "You're with the FBI, right? Detective Neal told me to me to expect you." Casey Victor, the widow of John Victor, spoke with a shaky voice that matched her level of composure. Derek Morgan nodded as they entered her home, flashing their credentials. She led the two agents to the small coffee table at the center of the living room, sitting across from the men. "What do you want to know?" Her puffy, tear filled eyes gave away her strong façade.

Dr. Reid cleared his throat gently as he folded his hands in his lap. "Did you notice any strange people around your residence or husband's place of work in the days leading up to his disappearance?" Mrs. Victor shook her head vigorously, wiping tears from her eyes that she could no longer hold back. "No. My husband didn't have any new patients and the neighborhood watch didn't notice any strangers around the neighborhood." Spencer nodded, continuing his questioning. "Was there anyone that you knew who had been acting strangely? Studies show that eighty percent of murder victims knew their killers." Casey gasped softly at his information, bringing her bony fingers to her mouth. "Mr. Garrisson! James Garrisson! He lives five doors down from us… He was standing in our yard, just staring at our bedroom window. He said he thought he saw a crack in our window and was concerned, but the whole thing seemed weird. Then, he just disappeared. I used to see him walk his dog every day, but ever since those awful pictures started showing up, he disappeared. I asked his wife where he had been and she said he was on a business trip… but it's been a long time… Oh my Lord… He killed John, didn't he!?"

Morgan looked at the woman calmingly, stopping her tears before they began. "Mrs. Victor, we appreciate your help. Now, I need you to stay home and relax. We will find your husband's killer." He squeezed her hand reassuringly, then turned to join Reid who had already gone outside.

Derek flipped his phone open and dialed Hotch's number. It went through half a ring before the Senior Agent Answered.

_-- "Hotchner."_

"Hotch, the wife remembered a neighbor of theirs who was behaving strangely, a Mr. James Garrisson. He's not been seen by her since her husband's torture began. Mrs. Garrisson told her that he was on a business trip, but Mrs. Victor said he was acting strangely before he disappeared. I think we have something solid here."

_-- "All right. Check it out. Just be careful and call me with any updates."_

A click was heard as the Unit Chief ended the phone conversation, leading Morgan to do the same. "All right, Reid. We're going to check out the Garrisson home. Stick with me no matter what." He looked at Reid fiercely, making sure the younger agent was listening. Spencer merely rolled his eyes at Morgan. "Yes, mom." This was met with a slap to the back of the head, courtesy of the dark skinned agent.

The two agents decided it would be easier to walk down to the Garrisson home as opposed to driving. Reid approached the door and knocked on it lightly. His gentle touch pushed the already opened door even further ajar. Morgan grabbed Reid and yanked him back, simultaneously drawing his weapon. Reid nodded and followed suit as both men entered the home. They cleared most of the house without trouble, until one of the agents entered the kitchen and a wooden bat was swung, hitting its mark.

---

RICHMOND COUNTY MORGUE

Richmond, VA

Prentiss and Rossi entered the dull morgue, flashing their credentials at the girl at the front desk. She nodded and went to get the Medical Examiner, Dr. Miranda Jacobs. Shortly after, a petite red headed woman approached the two agents, shaking their hands and giving them a gentle smile. "Agents. I'm Dr. Jacobs." Each agent showed her their credentials as Rossi introduced them. "I'm Agent Rossi, this is Agent Prentiss. I believe Detective Neal informed you we were coming to examine the body of John Victor." The small woman nodded and turned, leading the two FBI agents to the back of the building where the body was already laying on a slab, ready for them to inspect.

Dr. Jacobs spoke in a mousy voice, explaining what happened to the victim as she pointed to each of his injuries on his body. "As you can see, Mr. Victor went through strenuous and extreme physical torture. He's missing three molars and one of his canine teeth, both thumbnails, his right pinky, left ear and his testicles were removed with a serrated knife – very slowly. He was whipped, strangled, water boarded, burned and electrocuted. Death was slow and extremely painful. He was literally cooked alive, but wasn't burned. It was like someone put him in a giant oven. I'm not sure how this was done, but I've not seen anything like this in nine years." She met the agents' pain stricken stare with one of sympathy. "I told Mrs. Victor that he died quickly and peacefully, before the torture was even over. She doesn't need to know he suffered."

Emily Prentiss nodded in agreement, her deep brown hair moving with each movement. "So, there were similarities between this murder and the ones nine years ago? I assume that's what you meant when you said you've not seen anything like this in nine years." The coroner nodded grimly, handing them twenty-one autopsy reports – twenty from the past along with the newest victim's. "Identical. Every. Last. Bit." She shook her head. "I've been trying to figure out how someone could know all the details of the previous murders. These were never released to the press and the only people who knew were myself, Detective Neal, Agents Gideon and Hotchner, and you." She pointed to Rossi.

Dave took in the information and nodded. "Thank you for your help." He turned and headed back out to the SUV, Prentiss not far behind him. "Rossi, what the hell was that all about?" The elder agent waited until they were inside the SUV with locked doors. "I think the coroner is saying that we may be dealing with more than a copy-cat killer." Prentiss shook her head, trying to understand what he was saying. "If she's right, then Hotch killed the wrong man nine years ago." He put the car in drive and sped back towards the police station. He needed to fill Hotch in on what had happened before all hell broke loose.

---

POLICE HEADQUARTERS

Richmond, VA

"If you have any information on this man, please do not hesitate to call the tip line number on your screen. Thank you." JJ stepped down from the podium and retreated back into the police station. She collapsed into one of the plush chairs positioned around the conference table and began to nurse the coffee that one of the officers had handed her. "Everything all right, Hotch?"

The tall, handsome agent stood with an unchanged look on his face, his right hand placed under his chin in thought. "I cannot figure out why he waited nine years to copy the kills. Did it take the UnSub that long to learn the art?" He picked up a copy of a newly released book, which documented the original killings, and flipped it over to the back. "Son of a bitch…" His name was on the back as one of the sources and was given credit for 'single handedly bringing down the Photographer.' "Here it is. Perhaps the UnSub saw my name in this book and assumed that I was benefitting from the murders." Hotch flipped his phone open and redialed Garcia.

"BAU hotline. Talk dirty to me." The steady clacking of keys could still be heard over the phone. "Garcia, did you find any connections between the past killings and Mr. Victor?" The technical analyst clicked her tongue in the negative. "No sir. I've tried everything, but there are absolutely no ties between him and the original killings." Hotch exhaled in frustration but quickly shrugged it off. "That's fine. Change the search. Look for a family member of the original victims who was involved in the case much more than necessary. Someone who would have in-depth knowledge of the case. They would still fit the profile." Garcia began to type even faster, if that were possible. "Yes sir." She ended the phone call the same time as he did, leaving him to his thoughts. The only sound that could be heard was the steady breathing of the blond agent curled up in her chair. Hotch removed his suit jacket and placed it over her to keep her warm, allowing the slightest of smiles to crawl across his face as she curled up into his jacket.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Here is chapter three. I haven't gotten any feedback saying I haven't done justice to the characters, so I'll continue with writing the way I am. Sorry to leave you with a cliff hanger, but more are coming. Need those reviews!!! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, just Seasons 1-4. But, I do own the UnSub, the victims, and the plot!**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence.**

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GARRISSON HOME

Richmond, VA

"Chill the fuck out, man!" Morgan kept his left arm up as Mr. Garrisson hit him with a wooden bat for the third time. James Garrisson swung the bat with a different approach and hit the black agent across the shoulder blades as hard as he could. Derek's eyes nearly burst out of his head as he shouted expletives in pain and fell to the floor.

"FBI! DON'T MOVE!" Spencer Reid kept his gun trained on Morgan's attacker, glaring at him menacingly. "Drop the bat and step away from the agent… NOW!" James looked from Spencer to the FBI agent lying on the floor who was gasping for air. "Y…you're both FBI? Oh my…" He dropped the bat, backed away from Morgan, and dropped to his knees with his hands in the air. Reid approached him and cuffed him as the man continued to blubber. "I…I thought he was the man who took my wife… I'm so sorry…"

Reid left the man and rushed to Morgan's side, forcing him to remain lying down. He pulled out his phone and dialed dispatch. "This is Special Agent Spencer Reid of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. I have an agent down at 6051 Innovation Dr. I need an ambulance and officers here immediately." He ended the call as the 911 operator confirmed what Reid had requested and dialed Hotch, putting the phone on speaker.

_-- "Hotchner."_

"Hotch! I need you here at the Garrisson's residence now. Morgan was attacked by our possible UnSub. Ambulances are on the way."

_-- "I'm on my way, Reid. Do you have the UnSub with you?"_

"Yes, I have him cuffed and secured. I'm with Morgan right now. He's conscious, but his arm looks shattered and—"

"I'm fine, Hotch. Ignore Reid!"

_-- "Reid, tell Morgan that if he even thinks about moving he's off the case."_

Hotch's threat was met with a grumble and a few more expletives as he ended the phone conversation and turned towards the no longer sleeping media liaison. "What's going on, Hotch?" She handed him his jacket back as he grabbed the keys to one of the unmarked sedans. "Morgan's been injured. I need you to stay here and fill Prentiss and Rossi in on what happened when they get here. Don't tell Garcia until we know Morgan's condition. I need everyone to continue working on this case despite what happens to Morgan." JJ stood and just nodded as Hotch ran out the door.

---

The black sedan came to a screeching halt when he saw the ambulance and police cars. Hotch didn't even have to ask where Morgan was – he heard him arguing with the EMT as soon as he got out of his car. He couldn't help but smile, but quickly let his emotionless look come over him as he realized he had yet seen the extent of Morgan's injuries. He sprinted up towards the back of the ambulance, feeling his breath catch in his throat in anger. Morgan's left arm was broken, the bone almost protruding from his skin. Hotch stood next to Reid who began to laugh at Morgan's futile attempts to get away from the EMT's.

"James Garrisson attacked Morgan after we entered the house. The door was open and we thought the UnSub was inside. Turns out Mr. Garrisson had just received the DVD of his wife's kidnapping along with their wedding ring. He thought Morgan was the UnSub." Reid walked towards Morgan with Hotch as the paramedics hooked up a morphine drip to the black agent.

"How is he?" Hotch's voice was gravelly which only gave the paramedic even more incentive to answer him quickly. "His left forearm is snapped almost in half and his left shoulder is dislocated. He'll have to be in a cast and sling and he'll be in substantial pain, but there will be no point in him staying in the hospital other than for us to operate on his arm." The paramedic turned back and climbed into the back of the ambulance.

Hotch turned to Reid and handed him the keys to the sedan. "Have one of the officers take the sedan back to the station. Fill the team in on the case and continue to look for the UnSub. I'll make sure Morgan gets the medical attention he needs. I'll call you later." Hotch jumped into the back of the ambulance as Reid threw Hotch's keys to an officer and took the SUV back to the station with Mr. Garrisson in the back. They would get to the bottom of this.

---

UNDISCLOSED BUILDING

Undisclosed Location, VA

"Puh… please! Just let me go! I haven't seen your face!" Linda Garrisson struggled against her restraints as she searched for her captor in the dimly lit room. "I'll give you anything you want!" The young brunette tried to wrench her hands out of the ropes that were connecting them. Her pleas were met with the crack of a whip to her backside. Linda screamed in pain, which was quickly cut off as her attacker brought the whip down across her face, forcing her to the floor with blood pooling around her.

All she could do was listen to his horrible laugh as the room was briefly lit up by the flash of a camera. "Say cheese…"

---

POLICE HEADQUARTERS

Richmond, VA

"Where's Hotch?" Rossi walked into the conference room with his hands spread inquisitively. "And Morgan?" Emily piped up from behind Rossi. Spencer stood as JJ turned to face them. "They're at the hospital." Spencer fidgeted with his satchel nervously as he continued. "Morgan was attacked by one of the victim's neighbors." He filled the two agents in just as he had with JJ. "Hotch says we need to continue on the case. Morgan will be ok and Hotch will call as soon as there is an update."

The other agents nodded hesitantly before sitting at the table. Prentiss placed the autopsy reports she and Rossi had been given and began to explain what they knew. JJ could only shake her head and look in the direction where Mr. Garrisson was being held. "Well, now we know what our UnSub plans on doing to the Mrs. Should we talk to Mr. Garrisson?" Spencer nodded and offered to interview him. "He already feels guilty for hurting Morgan, so I'm sure I can get through to him." The young doctor headed to the interview room and sat across from the visibly shaken man. "Mr. Garrisson, I have a few questions for you."

James placed his head in his hands as he continued to sob. "I… I'm so sorry… I just thought he was the man who took my wife… I…" He looked up at Spencer, his disheveled chin length hair in his eyes. "Yes, please, ask anything." Reid nodded and placed his hands on the table between then. "Did you notice any strange behavior around your home before your wife disappeared?" Mr. Garrisson shook his head. "N…no! Not until you and your friend showed up… is he ok?" Reid gritted his teeth and forced himself to lie. "He's fine. Could you tell me what you were doing outside the Victor home two weeks ago?" The man stopped his blubbering, trying to remember the night he was referring to. He instantly turned red. "Look… I was really wasted and I saw Casey in the window… naked… she caught me looking so I told her the window was cracked… I didn't want to tell her the truth and I didn't want Linda to know. Oh God, Linda… I'm so sorry!" Reid simply nodded and left the man to his ramblings.

The young agent pulled out his phone and dialed the technical analyst who had been working frantically to find the UnSub. "Garcia, narrow down your search results to people who would be expected to be seen in that neighborhood. Electricians, cable company, even law enforcement." He whispered the last part, not wanting to alarm the Richmond police officers that were in the vicinity. "Continue to look at family members, but also include people whose lives were directly altered by the case." Garcia nodded even though Reid couldn't hear her. "You got it, Sugar." She hung up immediately and continued her search.

"Uhm, Dr. Reid?" The unsure voice of one of the rookie officers came from behind Spencer, forcing him to turn around. "Mr. Garrisson is asking for you." Spencer pushed himself up from leaning on the conference table and re-entered the interview room.

"Yes, Mr. Garrisson?" The husband of the latest victim stood and faced Reid. "Y…yes. I remembered something. There was a man standing outside our house the night before Linda disappeared. He said he was just admiring our garden… and I believed him!" He punched the wall in anger towards himself. Spencer placed a calming hand on his shoulder and forced him to sit back in the chair. "Mr. Garrisson, I understand you're upset, but I need you to describe him to me." James nodded and took a deep breath. "He was tall… at least six feet. He had dark hair, not real short but not too long. It could have just been a dark colored beanie… it was chilly outside. White guy. His voice sounded… lifeless. Almost monotonous. I'm sorry… that's all I remember." Reid stood and headed back to the conference room with the team.

As he walked in his cell began to ring. "You're on speaker, Garcia." There wasn't clicking in the background, just silence. "Who all is with you, Reid?" He looked at the phone quizzically before answering. "Uhm… just me, Prentiss, Rossi and JJ." He heard a sigh of relief on the other end before worry recaptured her voice. "Guys, we have a problem. I entered the profile and the type of people Hotch and Reid wanted me to search for… and while the system is still searching… I got a hit." Rossi shook his head in confusion. "I'm still trying to figure out the problem here, Garcia." Penelope took a moment before answering slowly. "Guys… the match… it's Hotch."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Ok, sorry this didn't get posted Saturday night! My little sister had a crisis, so I had to spend my time making her happy and smiley which was far more important than this story, sorry. So, here is one of my favorite chapters thus far. It's the shortest, but a lot happens in it and it is extremely important in this fic. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, but this story is slowly starting to own my soul!**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence.**

---

RAPPAHANNOCK GENERAL HOSPITAL

Richmond, VA

"Hotch… I'm fine man." Morgan's first words as he came out of his drugged sleep was, as expected, used to try to convince his boss he could go back to work. "Derek, you just came out of surgery. Can you please at least wait until the drugs wear off?" Hotch's voice remained at the same monotonous tone as always. Morgan just closed his eyes in pain as he unwisely sat up. "Fuckin' a man…" His arm was splinted in a soft cast, so the stitches could be changed, and secured in a sling to keep his shoulder in place. "So what did I miss?" Hotch shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Cell phones aren't allowed in hospitals." He gave Morgan a coy look before continuing. "I figure we'll know when we get back." Morgan nodded in agreement, looking past Hotch and at the busyness of the hospital. He remembered when it was Hotch in the hospital bed after Foyet got a hold of him. Hotch didn't want anyone babying him then, so he was glad that it was his Unit Chief there and not his other team members. He knew Hotch wouldn't baby him and he appreciated that.

One of the nurses entered the room after a few hours and explained to both Hotch and Morgan that Derek was no cleared for work and that he could not use his left arm under any circumstances, or he could risk losing use of it permanently. He was given a prescription for heavy painkillers that would surely make him sleep and discharged him from the hospital.

"Morgan, when we get to the station, you're to stay there or go to the hotel. If you go to the hotel, you're to have someone else drive you. You'll be working on the case from behind the desk, NOT in the field." Morgan grunted in displeasure and started to argue when Hotch cut him off. "Garcia doesn't know you were injured. You should probably call her."

Derek pulled out his cell angrily, dialing the soon to be pissed computer wizard. "Hey baby girl."

_-- "Hello my Chocolate Grecian God."_

"Uhm, baby, I'm just letting you know we're on our way back from the hospital and we need to know if-"

_-- "YOU WERE WHERE!?"_

Hotch smirked to himself as he listened to Garcia, who wasn't on speaker, berate and discipline Morgan.

"Baby girl! I'm fine! Just over-protective Hotch making sure… just a little run in with the latest victim's husband. He thought I was the UnSub, but I'm fine."

Hotch had pulled up to the station and gotten out of the car to allow Morgan to finish his conversation in private.

_-- "Derek, is Hotch still with you?"_

"No. What's wrong baby girl?"

_-- "Derek, Hotch is in trouble. I entered the parameters you guys gave me… Babe, Hotch fit. He fit everything. He benefitted from the original case… he's not going to be questioned if he's in some random neighborhood and he fit Mr. Garrisson's description of the man who was seen outside his home the night before his wife disappeared. The Richmond PD thinks he's the UnSub… and they've found evidence that clears Ferracci of the charges…" _

Morgan couldn't believe what he was hearing. This had to be a joke, a delusion caused by the drugs. Then he heard it.

"Aaron Hotchner! Step away from your vehicle and put your hands up! Don't make this harder than it needs to be!" Detective Neal stood in front of six armed officers, all of whom had their guns trained on the senior FBI agent.

Hotch stood there in shock, unable to move. "What the hell is going on?" He just stared at them, unmoving. Detective Neal didn't lower his gun, giving his order again. "Aaron Hotchner, put your hands in the air!" He raised his hands before being rushed by two SWAT officers and pinned against his vehicle. One officer disarmed him while the other cuffed him roughly as Detective Neal read him his rights. "Aaron Hotchner, you're under arrest for the kidnapping of Linda Garrisson, the murder of John Victor, the framing of Michael Ferracci, and the falsifying of legal documents in a federal case. You have the right to remain silent. If you give up that right, anything you say can and will be used against you –" He stopped as Derek Morgan approached them. Two more SWAT officers stopped Morgan in his tracks, careful of his injured arm. "What the fuck do you think you are doing, Neal!?" The vein in Morgan's forehead looked like it was about to burst. One of the restraining SWAT officers began to speak over Morgan. "Agent Morgan, please calm yourself down. You need to head back to your vehicle." In the background, Detective Neal finished reading Hotch his rights and slammed the FBI agent against the patrol car roughly and growled into his ear. "You sick son of a bitch. You're going to pay for what you've done." Hotch responded with a grunt as he was pulled back and turned towards the police station.

"Hotch! HOTCH!" Morgan fought past the SWAT officers and ran up to Neal. "You bastard! You and I both know this is a mistake! At least take him through the back! Don't parade him in front of the media!" Neal growled at Morgan, putting his index finger in the large FBI agent's face. "You and I know nothing except that this man killed the wrong guy nine years ago and he had both means and opportunity. I will do what I want to this 'UnSub.'" Neal's use of the word the BAU used to describe psychos towards Hotch caused Morgan to lose it. He charged the Detective and tackled him to the ground, throwing a wild punch with his right arm. The two began to tussle on the ground, Neal having the advantage due to Morgan's injuries.

"Morgan! STOP!" Morgan stopped fighting as he rolled on his back, Neal on top with his fist pulled back ready to strike. Hotch's voice was still menacing, despite his predicament. "Morgan, don't get yourself arrested. I need you leading the team so you can get to the bottom of this and I certainly don't need you back in the hospital for that arm. Remember what the doctor said." Hotch watched as Neal stood up and motioned for the two SWAT officers to help Morgan up and restrain him from attacking again.

Neal straightened out his suit before leading Hotch across the lot and through the media circus. Morgan was forced to stay behind and watch as his superior – his friend – was dragged through the media circus and treated like the scum he was trained to stop. Like an UnSub.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Ok, this is a pretty intense chapter. Some low blows and intense emotional moments. If I did this right, I have a feeling you're going to not be so fond of one of these characters after this chapter, and not like another one after the next one. Hehehehehe! I hope you all enjoy it! Thanks for reading and please continue to R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, but I do own the orange notebook that is now up to *counts* 13 pages written front and back.**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence**

---

CONFERENCE ROOM – POLICE HQ

Richmond, VA

"Guys, you need to turn on the news." Emily Prentiss rushed into the room, nearly spilling her coffee everywhere in the process. Rossi grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. There was a collective gasp released from the team as the image appeared on the screen.

_"FBI Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner has been taken into custody as a suspect in the Photographer copy-cat killings."_

The news reporter's voice was the only sound in the room as the team watched in horror.

_"Hotchner, who killed Michael Ferracci nine years ago as the suspected killer, was taken into custody in the police parking garage just moments ago. After Ferracci's ex-fiancée finally acquired his medical files, she was able to provide proof to the police that Ferracci was in a mental institute during the first year of the killings, the detectives of the Richmond PD were forced to re-open the case. This raised questions about what happened between Hotchner and Ferracci nine years ago. While the police department has yet to issue a statement, we have heard rumors that Agent Hotchner was identified outside the latest victim's home the night before she disappeared. It is currently unknown whether or not Hotchner is believed to be the original killer, but as a key component in the original case, questions are sure to be raised."_

Morgan walked in just as an image of Hotch being pulled through the media mob came up. At one point someone lobbed a bottle at the senior agent, hitting him in the back of the head. Everyone seemed so convinced that Hotch was the killer. "What the hell happened!?" The wounded agent's voice broke the uncomfortable silence, causing the team to turn and face him. "Morgan!" JJ pulled him into a careful embrace as Reid clapped him on the back, an apologetic look on his face.

The dark skinned agent just stared at the TV with a look of fury. "How did this happen!?" Rossi stood and guided Morgan to one of the chairs at the conference table before explaining. "We put in the profile and the type of people the UnSub could be and Hotch was the first match. Garcia is still searching, but it doesn't look good. Mr. Garrisson gave a description of the man he saw outside his home the night before his wife disappeared and Hotch matched it. Then, Grace Malone came forward with medical documents she's been fighting to have released for the past nine years that proved Ferracci was in a mental institute up north for the first year of the murders. The killings then and now are identical; leading the police to think this isn't a copy cat, but the real killer who's come back. They're questioning whether or not Hotch killed in Ferracci in self defense and are instead saying he did it to cover his tracks. This case launched Hotch's career with the FBI nine years ago and it's no secret that he's been taking a lot of heat. These guys are saying that Hotch is killing these people so he can stop another 'killer' and get his career on the up and up again." Morgan felt himself getting dizzy as he tried to digest all of this information, suddenly glad that he was sitting down. Rossi placed his hand on Derek's good shoulder and locked his eyes in a serious stare. "Derek, they're trying to pin all of this on Hotch."

There was nothing but silence for quite a while until a ringing phone interrupted. "Morgan." Derek stood, turning his back to the television. "Section Chief Straus… yes we're all still here… yes, we're cooperating…" He left out the part about attacking the arresting officer. "I will let them know… yes ma'am, I understand." He flipped his phone shut and pinched his nose in frustration. "That was Strauss. She's on her way here. This isn't good. She wants us to cooperate fully with the Richmond PD." He slammed his phone down on the table, causing the back and the battery to dislodge and fly across the room. This was really happening.

---

Hotch stretched his cuffed wrists out in front of him, trying his best to keep calm. He had been sitting in the interview room for about an hour and no one had told him what was going on. He knew this was just a tactic to unsettle him, hell, he basically wrote the book on these types of things. He forced himself to remain calm and patient as to not give the officers what they wanted. He would wait them out. His plan only took about fifteen more minutes for the police to enter the room. Detective Neal handed Hotch a porcelain mug with coffee in it. "You look tired, Agent Hotchner." Hotch merely glanced down at the mug then back up at Neal with a look of boredom on his face. "Y'know, Warren, if you want my DNA, all you have to do is ask." He pushed the mug of coffee back towards the agitated Detective, keeping his face emotionless. "Now are you ready to tell me what's going on or are we going to keep playing the games I made the rules for?" The FBI Agent laced his fingers on the desk, giving the man across from him a chilling glare.

"You know, you're a curious man Agent Hotchner. You seem to have a history of killing suspects without any witnesses and claiming it was self defense. First Ferracci… then Foyet." He set down pictures of each man's dead body at the crime scene in front of the agent, smiling at how mentioning Foyet made the man cringe in the slightest.

Hotch pulled his hands away from the picture of Foyet as he remembered that awful day. Haley dead. Jack in danger. He mentally shook himself from going down that path. He couldn't afford to at the moment. "Foyet murdered my ex-wife and threatened to kill my son. I had no choice." His voice was a growl. He shouldn't have to explain himself to this man.

Neal shook his head and pulled the pictures back from him. "Let's talk about what you were doing two Saturday's ago. Go out for an evening stroll?" He leaned across the table, getting in Hotch's face. Hotch looked at the clock behind Neal. It was a little past one in the morning. Neal was wasting his time with these questions. "I was at home. My son went to his Aunt's house for the weekend and my paper work was done. And no, there's no one who can corroborate my story." Hotch gave Neal a look of annoyance before continuing. "You wanna tell me what this is all about? Or at least show me some evidence that connects me to these crimes?" The detective smiled at Hotch, more than happy to explain what was condemning the decorated agent. "Ferracci was cleared. Evidence that his psychiatrist just released proves it. You had motive, means and opportunity. The original case put you on the map for the FBI, Aaron. You killed those people then framed another man with the profile you came up with and silenced him before he could point the finger at you. Now that your career with the FBI is going downhill, you've decided to create another string of murders so you can play hero again. Except you just couldn't resist coming back here and repeating your methods. You got sloppy when James Garrisson saw you outside his home just before his wife disappeared. You won't be able to propel your career this time, Aaron. This time, you're going down."

Hotch just stared at the man and said nothing. There was obviously no getting through to the detective. He would have to wait for his team to prove his innocence. He just hoped it wouldn't take too long.

---

Casey Victor ran into the station and embraced her newly released neighbor in a comforting hug. "James, is it true!? They have him? The Photographer? And he's with the FBI!?" James Garrisson nodded and held her tighter, trying to stiffly a sob. "He won't tell them where Linda is!" As the two ended their embrace, Hotch was taken from the interview room so he could be put back in his cell. "You BASTARD!" James ran across the room and landed a blow to Hotch's face, busting his lower lip open. Hotch was cuffed and couldn't defend himself from the second blow to his right eye. Before James could land a third hit, Rossi had tackled him to the ground. He looked at the two officers holding Hotch and shook his head. "Get him fixed up before you lock him up." The officers rolled their eyes as they pushed Aaron towards the infirmary. Rossi stood James back up and shoved him. "You do that again and your ass goes behind bars."

Reid headed over to the infirmary to check on Hotch. The two officers that had escorted him were now standing outside the door, guarding him as to prevent him from escaping. They had no intention to help a man who was accused of murdering twenty-one people in their community, leaving him to clean his own wounds with still cuffed wrists. "Hotch, let me help you with that." The Unit Chief moved his hands out of Reid's grasp as a response to the young doctor's command. He didn't want anyone's pity and he didn't need anyone's help with cleaning his own cuts. "I'm fine, Reid. You guys have a case to work on." The senior agent moved towards the mirror so he could clean the blood that was dripping down from his lip. He growled when he saw the purple tint that was already appearing around his right eye which was accompanied by a few cuts, courtesy of Mr. Garrisson. "Damn." He wiped away the specks of blood around his eye and sat down next to Reid. "How bad is it, Spencer?" The young doctor knew he meant the implications against him, not his injuries. "Hotch, the team knows you didn't –" "That bad, huh?" Aaron didn't even let Reid finish comforting him. He could tell just by looking at the doctor things were bad. "How long until Strauss is here?" Reid sighed in defeat. "About two minutes, give or take with traffic."

Hotch straightened his tie and suit, and then did his best to fix his disheveled hair. Even when in custody Aaron was concerned with looking professional. "It would make sense she would be here so soon. She's been waiting for this moment since Prentiss joined." Reid looked at him inquisitively. "Her chance to fire me, Reid."

"Hotch, she's not going to fire you. I'm sure she knows this is a mistake." Spencer stood as the two officers entered to take Hotch back to the interview room. That could only mean that Strauss had arrived. "Reid, follow this case like you would any other. Don't ignore any evidence. Morgan is the Unit Chief now." With that, he was lead out of the room, leaving Spencer to his thoughts.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Ok, so this chapter was really hard for me to write. I'm getting impatient because I want to like, fast forward or whatever but I can't! I'll lose vital information and opportunities to torture you with cliff hangers if I do! So, sorry that it took this long to update… (maybe I'm not late… I don't remember when I update anymore!) I hope you enjoy the chapter. Just bunker down and get ready. It's about to get bumpy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, but I need to by a wrist brace because writing this thing is killing my hand…**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence**

---

Erin Strauss was waiting for the BAU Unit Chief to be brought in to speak with her, but wasn't expecting him to look beaten up. Aaron Hotchner was cuffed to the table and left alone in the room with his superior. There was nothing but silence for what felt like an eternity as Strauss looked over the charges and evidence, which were organized in a manila folder in front of her. She looked back up at Hotch and couldn't help but shake her head. "Please tell me you didn't resist arrest." Hotch looked at her, unsure if she was kidding or not. "The latest victim's husband took out his frustration on me. He think I know where his wife is and-" "Do you?" Hotch stopped and just stared at the Section Chief. "Excuse me?" His voice betrayed his agitation despite the stony look on his face. "Aaron, I'm not going to play games with you." "Then don't." She glared at her as she took her glasses off nonchalantly. "Fine. Give me your badge." He put her hand out and waited for Hotch to fumble with his pocket and hand her the leather case that contained his credentials. He didn't hesitate as he slapped them into her hand. Erin simply pocketed them and continued. "Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, you are suspended indefinitely. Your status with the FBI will be reviewed at the conclusion of this case." She leaned back in her chair and looked at him disapprovingly. "The only reason I am not suspending your pay is for the sake of your son. Your paycheck will be sent directly to Jessica Brooks." She stood up and just stared at Hotch. "I'm leaving you in the custody of the Richmond PD. The BAU will continue to work this case and you will cooperate with them fully. So help me God, if any of the charges are correct, I will make sure you pay for your crimes to the full extent of the law." Erin Strauss grabbed her folder and left Hotch in the room alone.

He couldn't believe it. He knew she didn't like him, but to think he was capable of this… she obviously had no profiling skills. Hotch could only hope that his team was good enough to get the real UnSub before it was too late.

---

The team watched Strauss walk out of the interview room and up to Detective Neal, no doubt promising the FBI's full cooperation throughout the duration of the case. She glanced over at the team who was gathered around the conference table like they were posing for a family picture, trying to cover the hurt they felt without their leader. Without saying another word, she headed out to her sedan which would take her back to Quantico where she could wash her hands clean of a possibly rogue agent. The rest of the team, however, was left to deal with the accusations and were expected to condemn their boss. Their mentor. Their friend.

"Listen up, guys." The team looked at Morgan, different levels of defeat in each of their eyes. "I know it looks bad for Hotch and we're all worried about him, but the best way to help him is to continue working this case and getting to the bottom of it. JJ, since we can't talk to the media without them demanding to know Hotch's life story, I want you to work with the families. They're not going to trust us because one of our own has been implicated in the killings, so we're going to have to work extra hard on this. Emily, I want you to go with JJ so you can profile everyone she speaks to. No one is above being a suspect right now." Morgan winced in pain as he turned his head too quickly and jostled his injured shoulder. He ignored the feeling and continued giving orders. "Rossi, you and Reid go over every one of the old murders. I want to know dates on the kidnappings, tortures, and murders. We need to alibi Hotch on as many of them as we can."

Emily and JJ nodded, more than happy to take their assignment. Both agents had come across cases that no one thought were cases the BAU should bother with and both times Hotch was there for them. Granted, it took Hotch a lot longer to be convinced to help Prentiss, but he put faith in her and allowed her on the team despite the lack of an opening for her. Now it was their turn to be there for him.

It went without saying that Reid would be there for Hotch. Had it not been for his superior, he would have been killed by Tobias Hankel or the dilaudid addiction he developed afterwards. He would fight for Hotch's freedom no matter what. Hotch had defended Garcia on more than one occasion, especially after her mistake in the Fisher King case and later when she was implicated in the Battle case. The Tech Goddess would type herself into a bad case of carpal tunnel for him.

Then there was Morgan, the man who he trusted to lead the team. He and Hotch didn't always see eye to eye, but Morgan looked up to him. He only hoped that one day he could be as efficient of an agent as Aaron was. Even in the face of utter devastation, he had made the right decisions, something that was an admirable trait in anyone.

That only left Rossi. Sure, he had known Hotch for years, but how well did he really know him? Rossi, like Gideon, trust the profile above all else and in this case, the profile was pointing right at Hotch. While he didn't think Hotch would do anything like this, the case in Canada that uncovered 89 murders proved to him that anything was possible. Dave decided to keep his thoughts to himself, for now. Right now, he and Reid had work to do.

Morgan watched as the team moved on to their separate missions before looking back at the interview room where Hotch was being moved from. He caught Hotch's eye and made a move to intercept them, but the hand cuffed man merely shook his head as he was lead out of the station by one of the officers towards the patrol car to be taken to the prison where he would be held overnight. Derek watched as they were bombarded by the media, further tarnishing his reputation.

---

BROOKS HOME

Manassas, VA

"Look, Aunt Jessie! It's dad!" Jack Hotchner pointed to the image of his father being paraded into the police station in handcuffs, oblivious to the severity of the situation. Jessica Brooks, Haley's sister and Aaron's ex-sister-in-law, dropped the book she was holding as she read the scroll bar at the bottom of the screen. _'BAU Agent Implicated in Richmond Area Murders.'_ "What wrong?" Jessica looked down at Jack and patted him on the head. "Nothing, sweetie. Go brush your teeth, its bed time." Jack nodded and ran off to get ready for bed as Jessica dialed the agent she knew would be able to explain what was happening.

-- _"Garcia."  
_ No quirky greeting – things had to be bad.

"Hi, Penelope. It's Jessica, Hotch's sister-in-law."

-- _"Oh, hey hun."_

After Haley had been murdered and Jessica agreed to help take care of Jack, Penelope had given the woman her number in case she needed to get in contact with one of them in an emergency.

"Uh, Penelope, I just saw the news. Is Aaron ok?"

Garcia sighed before explaining what had happened, pausing when Jessica's tears started.

-- _"You need to stay home, Jess. The media will be after you like crazy. An agent will be there to make sure things aren't too crazy and to run errands for you. Hotch will be ok. He's tough and this is the best team out there."_

"I know. You tell him that Jack loves him and I'll take care of him for as long as he needs me to. I know he didn't do this."

Garcia couldn't help but smile at the woman's encouraging words.

-- _"I will. Give Jack a hug for me. Take care."_

Jessica ended the call and pressed the phone to her chest as she forced herself to stop crying. She looked at Jack who was in his PJs, ready for his Aunt to tuck him in. "C'mon, Jack. Let me tell you a bedtime story about a beautiful princess named Haley and her brave knight, Aaron." She picked him up and carried him into his room. No matter how tough the next few days were going to be, she would make sure Jack knew his dad was a hero.

---

BORDEN HOME

Richmond, VA

"Hi, Mr. Borden? I'm Special Agent Emily Prentiss, this is Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, we're with the FBI." The brunette opened her credentials just after JJ did, following proper protocol. "We'd like to ask you a few questions… about your wife."

Richard Borden thought for a few moments before moving out of the doorway and allowing the two women inside. He led them into the kitchen where he had been reading the newspaper with his morning coffee. "Can I get you ladies anything? Coffee?" Both women nodded, knowing from experience that it relaxed the families when they accepted food and drink. Plus, both women were extremely tired and needed a good cup of coffee. Richard handed them a colorful mug filled with hazelnut coffee and sat down at the kitchen table, taking a sip of his own coffee. "Y'know… Agent Hotchner was sitting exactly where you two are fourteen years ago. My wife was the Photographer's first victim and he swore he would catch the bastard. I trusted him and now he's the one being accused of the murders. Give me one good reason why I should tell you anything." The look in his eyes showed how serious and hurt he was.

JJ knew he would feel betrayed, she just didn't know how bad it would be. "Mr. Borden, I understand your frustration and your skepticism, but we're here to gain information so we can make sure your wife's killer is locked up, whether it's Agent Hotchner or someone else." The blond woman's voice faltered slightly as she mentioned her boss's name. It hurt to admit he was a suspect, but she had to gain this man's trust.

Mr. Borden sighed before nodding his head. "Fourteen years ago, my wife and I went for a walk. It was a late night, romantic deal. We got to the park and laid out the blanket. I walked away just long enough to get some firewood and when I got back… she was gone. The next day I received a DVD along with the diamond tennis bracelet she had been wearing. I… I never saw her again."

Emily folded her hands on the round kitchen table and nodded her head in understanding. "I know this is difficult, but I need you to think. Was there anyone you saw hanging around the park that night? Anyone at all." Richard shook his head as he forced himself to recall the memories of that horrible night. "Th… there was a man who walked past us. He asked for directions and struck up a conversation. We told him we were going on a picnic… he knew where we would be… my God!" He dropped the coffee mug, not even phased by the sound of it shattering. JJ moved to clean up the mess as Emily continued the questioning. "Mr. Borden, I need you to focus. Can you give me a description of the man?" Richard stared off into nothingness as he recalled what he could. "Uh… he was tall… white with real dark hair, I think. He was wearing a ball cap… his voice was strange… almost monotonous…"

Emily and JJ's gaze met as they processed what he had just said. He had just given the same description Mr. Garrisson had given. The one that matched Hotch. This wasn't good.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Ok, so I lied. Apparently I had the energy to crank out Chapter 8 when I got home from work, so you all get treated with Chapter 7! WOO HOO! Things are getting interesting in my notebook… and I think you guys will love it! Please, continue with the R&R! It's my life source and it makes me want to write all the more quickly!! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds, but my best friend thinks I should own a straight jacket for writing this much in a week!**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence.**

---

RICHMOND COUNTY JAIL

Richmond, VA

"How the hell do they justify havin' Walker's dumb ass transport the suspect, an FBI agent no less, in the most prolific serial case in Richmond history? He can't even get here on time." Sergeant Dawson threw his empty coffee cup into the garbage as his radio came alive with chatter.

_"Attention all units. We have a reported officer down on the corner of Jefferson and Maine. Officer was transporting suspect Aaron Hotchner. Hotchner is to be considered armed and extremely dangerous."_

Dawson grabbed his radio as he listened to the alert again, unable to believe what he had heard. If something happened to Walker, he would make Hotchner's life a living hell.

---

INTERSECTION OF JEFFERSON AND MAINE

Richmond, VA

Morgan stood in the middle of the intersection and just stared at the yellow police tape. The throbbing in his arm was nothing in comparison to the dread he was feeling. Something had caused the officer transporting Hotch to pull over into this construction site and now he was dead and Hotch was missing. The officer had been double tapped in the back of his head with his own pistol. Hotch's handcuffs were discarded just outside the driver side door, the keys lying next to them. Morgan already knew what the officers were thinking; this was Hotch's handy work. The fact that the suspected agent was nowhere to be found didn't help prove his innocence.

The acting Unit Chief walked up to Detective Neal, not sure what to say. They hadn't even looked at each other since their altercation, so Derek was trying to be careful not to set the man off. "Any sign of Hotch?" The detective didn't even hesitate as he continued dusting both the gun and key for prints. "Get these back and run them. I want to know who touched this gun and who took our suspect's cuffs off in no less than an hour." Warren stood and faced Morgan, his hands folded across his chest. "Yes, Unit Chief Morgan?" His voice gave away the contempt he felt for the black agent. "No, there's no sign of Mr. Hotchner. He's most likely on the run after his most recent kill." He looked over at the young officer being carted away in a body bag. "Walters was a good man, good cop. He had a promising career. Kind of like Hotch when he was this kid's age. Strange how quickly things can change."

The detective stood very close to Derek, his voice becoming a low growl. "When those prints come back on the gun saying they belong to Hotchner, I'm going to flood the streets with my men, armed tooth and nail ready to take him down, so if you know where he is, I highly suggest you let me know."

Derek folded his good arm across his chest defiantly. "The BAU does not harbor fugitives, no matter who they are. If we know anything, we will let you know." He turned back to his vehicle, starting the engine and racing back to the Richmond police station. He put his phone on speaker so that he wouldn't have to hold it, needing his one good arm to steer the vehicle.

_-- "Tell me how you want it."_

"Baby girl, I need you to get into the Richmond PD computer system and let me know the results on the prints they run from Walters' gun as soon as they come in. Call me as soon as you know."

_-- "You got it, sugar."_

At this point, the whole team knew Hotch was missing. Strauss had personally called each member of the team and informed them that if they were in any way helping Hotch to stay hidden, they would be suspended and charged for harboring a fugitive. They of course didn't need to be reminded of this, but did not argue with the Section Chief. They couldn't waste precious time.

---

RICHMOND PD EVIDENCE HOLD

Richmond, VA

"These are all identical. Down to the letter, but there's nothing here to tell us what we don't know about this UnSub." Reid continued his fast paced reading through the case files, soaking up every bit of information he could. Rossi stared at the evidence board, looking at everything as if some hidden face was just waiting to jump out at him. "Keep looking, Reid. It's in there." Rossi rubbed his chin as he stared at the picture of Hotch that had been pinned over the one of Ferracci, identifying him as the UnSub.

"Dave, you don't honestly believe Hotch did this, do you?" Reid had finished reading the autopsy files and was desperate to escape the thoughts floating through his mind. Rossi didn't budge, his stare resting on the picture of their colleague. "Reid, we're profilers. We can't rule something of someone out just because of how we feel. Everything in this case if pointing to Hotch. Instead of ignoring that, we need to work this case knowing that there's a good chance that… Aaron is the UnSub."

Reid just stared at the older agent, not believing what he had just said. What he could believe even less was how he responded. Before he knew what he was doing, Spencer had shoved Dave against the wall, holding him there by the lapels of his shirt. "You have no clue what you're talking about! Aaron Hotchner is the only reason why I was found before Tobias Hankel could kill me. He is the only reason I faced my drug addiction instead of succumbing to it. He is not capable of something like this." His voice was stern; having gained an edge that Rossi had only heard when Reid had interrogated his own father. Spencer let go of Rossi and stepped back from him, leaving the conference room. "Maybe you're not as much of a part of this team as we thought." He slammed the door behind him, leaving Rossi alone, who was still shocked by the sudden show of physicality from the young doctor. Maybe he should have lied.

---

GARRISSON HOME

Richmond, VA

James Garrisson tightened the laces on his tennis shoes as he got ready for his morning run. It was before five in the morning, so everyone in the neighborhood was still asleep, giving him absolute peace. He put his ear buds in and opened his front door. "Oh my… NO! NO!" He fell to his knees at the sight before him. There, dangling from the overhang above his door, was the mangled body of his wife, Linda. Hanging from her neck was a DVD with the word 'DEATH' written on it. The Photographer had finished with Linda Garrisson and was ready for his next victim.

---

The entire neighborhood was filled with police cars and media vans as multitudes of officers canvassed the neighborhood looking for the killer. "He's gone sixteen hours and he's already disposed of his latest victim." Neal kicked some of the gravel beneath his feet in frustration. "Get all units out looking for Hotchner. I want him back in custody."

---

CONFERENCE ROOM – POLICE HQ

Richmond, VA

Reid paced around the room, deep in thought. JJ and Emily sat around the conference table, watching the gears in his head turn. Rossi snuck into the room and sat down with a folder in his hands, waiting for Reid to stop pacing. The young doctor stopped without a word and sat down, recalling the files he had read.

"I've spent the whole night looking over the autopsy reports, looking at every similarity between the cases. The evolution between each murder can be seen and you can tell by the methods and strokes that these have all been done by the same killer. There's also something else I found. Michael Ferracci was right handed. The direction that the slashes were made on the victims indicate that our UnSub is left handed." Rossi didn't need to say what he was leading to, everyone was already thinking it; Hotch is left handed.

The silence seemed to freeze everyone until Morgan came bursting into the room. "Linda Garrisson's body just turned up. Richmond PD is already pointing the finger at Hotch." Morgan walked up to the evidence board and stared at the picture of the missing agent. "Why the hell hasn't he at least called us?" As if on cue, his cell phone began to ring. "Go ahead, Garcia." The disappointment was apparent in his voice as he put the phone on speaker.

_-- "Derek, are you with the team? I'm not saying this twice."_

"Yes, we're all here… alone."

Garcia cleared her throat several times in an attempt to suppress the shakiness in her voice. She wasn't successful.

_-- "The results are back from the prints on the gun and the keys to the handcuffs."_

There was silence. Part of the team wanted to know the results so they could clear their boss of the charges. The other part of them dreaded hearing who had handled the gun, scared they might further implicate their colleague.

_-- "The prints match Hotch. He killed Officer Walters. He unlocked his handcuffs." _

No one said a word as Garcia's sobs were heard over the receiver, everyone overcome by emotions of betrayal and confusion. This didn't make sense. Hotch couldn't have done this… could he?


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: So, my bestie read this before anyone else (yes, there are perks to being my best friend hehehe) and she likes this chapter! I hope you all enjoy it as much as she did!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds… and I don't know of anything clever to say.**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence**

---

FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION HEADQUARTERS

Quantico, VA

"Are you sure? … I understand… if we find anything out, we'll let you know." Erin Strauss put the corded phone back on the receiver as a look of pure hatred overcame her face. She had given Hotch a chance. She trusted him enough to lead one of the most elite FBI teams ever assembled. She should have known that a profiler would be able to cheat a psych evaluation. She should have made him stay on leave. No, she should have fired Hotch two years ago when she had the chance. "He will never get these back." Erin dropped the former Unit Chief's credentials into a locked drawer, intending them to never be seen again. As far as she was concerned, this was the last time Aaron Hotchner would disgrace the Bureau, guilty or not.

---

CONFERENCE ROOM – POLICE HQ

Richmond, VA

"Ok, let's look at the profile again." Emily pulled out the file someone with the Richmond PD had put together on Aaron Hotchner. She felt like she was invading Hotch's privacy, but she knew it was necessary if they wanted any chance at proving his innocence. "We profiled the UnSub as being somewhere between his late twenties to early forties. Hotch is in his mid forties, so he technically doesn't fit there." She turned to the list she had created on the dry erase board the department had brought in for her, checking 'no' next to the age category. "Hotch isn't very emotional, he works in a position of power with varying hours…" She checked off 'yes' on two more fields, much to her displeasure. "Hotch lost Haley and has substantial ties to the community… and in his file there are implications he may have been abused as a child… by his father." She slowly marked yes on the rest of the list, hanging her head in defeat. "There has to be SOMETHING that alibis him!" She slammed the dry erase marker down and ran a tired hand through her hair.

JJ placed her slender hands on the brunette's shoulders in a comforting gesture. She knew that now, more than ever, they had to support each other.

Spencer shook his head as he reviewed the autopsy reports again, this time side by side with Hotch's old case files, looking for an alibi for at least one of the murders. So far the timelines hadn't matched up. Reid thought he had something at one point, until Rossi pointed out Hotch could have driven from the case he was working on in Boston to Richmond to continue the torture. Of course Rossi would point out the flaw in the theory further condemning Hotch. "I'm not getting anywhere with these files. Nothing solid is matching up." He looked up at Morgan desperately, hoping the acting Unit Chief had some good news.

"Hotch's cell phone is still turned off, so there's no progress in finding him. Garcia is keeping her eye out on it. In the mean time we need to be prepared for when the Richmond PD finds Hotch. They're going to want blood for what happened to Walters and we can't interfere." Morgan sat down as he carefully rubbed his throbbing arm. The entire team's stare was stuck on the station entrance. They couldn't help but foolishly hope their colleague would walk in through the front doors with an explanation for everything.

"Reid." Spencer's phone had started vibrating in response to the incoming call from their Technical Analyst.

_-- "Put me on speaker, Reid."_

"You're on speaker, Garcia."

_-- Hotch's phone just came back on. I've got a location."_

The whole team jumped up as Rossi grabbed the keys to the SUV, ready to move. Morgan grabbed the phone from Spencer.

"Where is he, baby girl?"

_-- "Guys, according to the map, he's right outside… across the street."_

The team looked at each other in confusion as Morgan sprinted outside and across the street. "Hotch!? HOTCH!?" He looked around desperately for the man as he fumbled for his own cell phone. He dialed Hotch's number, scanning the crowd for the dark haired man. Derek froze as he heard the factory default ringtone that belonged to Hotch's phone. He followed the sound towards a potted plant that was sitting outside the coffee shop across from the station. There, inside the planter, was Aaron Hotchner's cell phone. Morgan reached for it and pulled it out of the soil angrily. As he placed the phone in his pocket, the dark skinned agent noticed the sun reflecting off of a shiny surface where the phone had been. Carefully, Derek moved the soil aside and found what had been buried there. It was a DVD with the words 'Let the Games Begin' written with a black sharpie. Morgan could feel his hands shake as his mind began to put the pieces together. He needed to see what was on that DVD.

---

"Garcia, are you in?" Spencer slid the DVD into the disc drive as Penelope took control of the computer remotely as to enable her to scan every bit of information that came across the screen. "I'm in, sugar. You guys ready?" The collective silence in the room indicated a hesitant yes as Garcia hit play.

The DVD started off black then slowly faded into a video of someone following a patrol car from inside his own SUV. The patrol car pulled into the empty construction building, where the SUV followed him. The officer inside the vehicle was on his cell phone, looking back at the man sitting in the back of his vehicle before continuing his conversation. The man controlling the video camera exited the SUV, the camera seemingly attached to the hood the UnSub was wearing. He revealed a gun and pointed it at the officer from the other side of the glass, motioning for him to exit the vehicle. The masked man then took the officer's weapon and shot him twice in the back of the head.

The man's attention shifted to Hotch, who was struggling to get out of the locked back seat of the patrol car. He pointed the gun at the agent who instantly stopped struggling, giving the attacker a stony glare.

"Get out of the car, Agent Hotchner." The voice was completely digitized, making it unrecognizable. Hotch complied, exiting through the car door the masked man opened for him. The agent stood tall, giving the killer a defiant look. "I presume you're the Photographer. I knew Ferracci was too smart to be such a stupid killer." Hotch's antagonizing words were met with a punch to his mouth, reopening the cut on his lower lip.

The darkly clothed man pulled a key from the dead officer and ordered Hotch to remove his handcuffs. As soon as Aaron let the cuffs fall to the ground the masked man brought his gun down across Hotch's head, sending him sprawling to the ground. Hotch pushed himself up off the pavement and looked at the blood smears that had formed where his head had made contact. He had only made it halfway off the ground when his attacker grabbed him by his collar and slammed him into the patrol car, knocking the wind out of him. Hotch put his hands up to block the fist thrown at him which only angered the UnSub more as he brought his knee into the FBI agent's stomach, the sickening crack of his ribs resonating through the empty building. Hotch's cry of pain was quickly silenced as his attacker wrapped a cord around his throat. He held it there until Hotch stopped struggling, releasing the man just before death had him in his clutches.

The camera focused on Hotch, who was laying on the dirty ground on his back, a disoriented look on his face. The killer took the gun that belonged to the deceased officer and put it in Hotch's left hand, making sure his prints were on it.

"Agent Hotchner, I'm tired of your incompetence. First you give credit to that low life Ferracci for my work then manage to get yourself blamed for it. Now, I'm going to kill two birds with one stone. I'm going to restore my great name by killing the infamous Aaron Hotchner while the BAU does nothing but watch." The camera continued to focus on Hotch as he attempted to roll onto his side to get up. A sick laugh filled the speakers as the UnSub swung his foot into Hotch's face, sending him reeling into unconsciousness.

The screen went black again, but the sick laughter continued. "Don't worry, BAU, you'll see him again… Piece. By. Piece."

There was nothing but silence as the team just stared at the computer screen that had returned to the desktop, leaving no trace of the horror they had just witnessed. Morgan was the first to move, reaching for his phone. "We have to let Strauss know. Hotch is innocent, but now he's in danger."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Ok, sorry this update came so late! I wanted to finish writing Chapter 10 in my notebook before posting Chapter 9 online for you guys. I'm slowing down my writing pace as this story has taken its turn and I want to be super careful to continue to keep the characters, well, in character. So, please be patient! It will be rewarded!!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds…. *le sigh***

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence**

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UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

Undisclosed City, VA

Aaron woke very slowly to the pounding in his head. The blood had stopped seeping from his head wound and had dried on his face. Needless to say, he looked like hell. "Agent Hotchner, you're finally awake." A monotonous voice filled the room as Hotch searched the room for its source. "Who are you?" The captured agent's voice remained emotionless as his eyes rested on the hooded figure standing in the shadows. His question was met with laughter as the assailant walked towards Hotch, his identity kept a mystery by the ski mask he was wearing. "You mean you haven't figured it out? I'm the real Photographer, the one of old and new." He pulled out a switch blade and twisted it in his hands menacingly.

Hotch merely glared at the man as he began to slowly fight against the restraints that kept him attached to the wooden chair he was forcibly seated in. The Photographer smirked behind his mask as he flicked out the knife, slashing Hotch's bicep and knicking the muscle. The FBI agent sucked in a sharp breath of air to suppress the shout of pain that wanted to push past his lips. He looked at his arm as his crimson blood began to stain his dress shirt. The attacker repeated this action on Hotch's other arm, this time coaxing a small yelp of pain from his victim.

"Agent Hotchner, you disappoint me. Two slashes and you're already shouting in pain? You must have been begging Foyet for death by the time he was done." His sadistic smirk only grew as a pang of hatred crossed Hotch's face. The dark haired agent looked at his captor defiantly. "Are you really going to waste your time trying to get inside the mind of a profiler? Or are you going to tell me what it is you want?" His voice was unwavering as he stared the man in front of him down.

The Photographer leaned in closely to Aaron Hotchner, his warm breath hitting his hostage's face. "I want you to die. Slowly and painfully." With those words, the UnSub brought the knife to Hotch's ear and slowly dragged it downward, causing excruciating pain, which was evident by the grimace on the agent's face. In the background Hotch saw flashes of light coming from the camera his attacker used as part of his signature.

---

FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION HEADQUARTERS

Quantico, VA

"Are we sure that this wasn't staged to prove his innocence?" Strauss ran a hand over her face in exhaustion. This whole case was giving her whiplash with the constant new developments. "Alright, well I'm not ruling Aaron out, but our priority right now is finding Agent Hotchner and getting back safely." The Section Chief hung up the phone and leaned back in her chair. She still didn't trust Hotch, but she wasn't about to let one of her agents die just because she didn't like him.

---

CONFERENCE ROOM – POLICE HEADQUARTERS

Richmond, VA

Morgan and Reid sat in the conference room in silence. The rest of the team had gone back to the hotel to get some much needed rest, leaving the acting Unit Chief and young doctor alone to try to figure out who had their colleague. "Let's go over the profile again. We know from the video that our UnSub is bigger than Hotch, so at least six feet-four inches, two hundred forty-five pounds. He's driving a black, unmarked SUV, big enough to transport his victims easily. He's most likely in a position of power and is such a substantial figure in the community by now that no one would expect him." Spencer took a drink of his coffee in an attempt to rejuvenate himself after his tirade.

His colleague stood and faced the evidence board that now had Hotch's picture under the word 'victim'. "Why take Hotch? He's never taken anyone that was this high risk before. It has to be more than just to 'restore his name'. Something personal… maybe he felt Hotch gained too much from this case while the credit of his work was given to someone else. Now he can rectify both situations." Morgan slammed his fist against the wall, frustrated at the fact that the UnSub had out-smarted them. He shouldn't have let the bastard take Hotch. He failed him.

Morgan's self deprecation was interrupted by JJ, Emily, and Rossi who stormed into the room with a brown package in their hands. A look of worry was etched into each of their faces as Emily set the unopened package at the center of the table. The packaging label was addressed to the 'BAU' with their hotel's address printed in the same writing as one the DVD. The return address was blank with just the letters 'AH' written on it. Hotch's initials. "We didn't want to open it without you two. We got the package fifteen minutes ago. UPS guy picked it up at distribution, so the trail is dead." JJ sat down next to Reid, feeling sick briefing the team about what was happening.

Everyone just stared at the package in silence. They knew what would be inside; pictures from Hotch's torture… and a piece of him to go along with them. The question was just what piece the UnSub sent. "We have to open it. If any of you don't want to be in here, I –" Emily interrupted Morgan, raising a dismissive hand. "Derek, we're all here for Hotch. We're not going anywhere." A collective nod from the team told Morgan to continue.

The black agent pulled out a pocket knife and began slicing through the tape. He slowly pulled the flaps back on the top of the small box, revealing several pictures of Hotch being cut with a sharp blade. There was a small white box with a picture of the UnSub bringing the knife across Hotch's ear. The team braced themselves as Morgan removed the lid to reveal its contents. Inside the box was Hotch's ear lobe with a puddle of blood that had formed beneath it. Emily covered her mouth in horror as JJ turned away to keep from being sick. Spencer just sat there in shock as Rossi took the box from an anger filled Morgan. "We need to get this tested… make sure it's…" He couldn't finish his sentence as he walked out of the room, handing the box and its contents to a lab tech for results. They all knew it was Hotch's ear, but no one wanted to admit it. They had to move quickly. This was only the beginning.

Spencer's gaze was locked on the box, trying to make sense of this. After a few moments, he saw it. Wedged under some of the packaging peanuts was another picture, printed on a different kind of paper from the other pictures. On the back the word 'Christmas' was written along with the year '2006' next to it. Reid slowly flipped the photo over, the horror on his face growing. The picture was of a happy couple with their baby boy in front of a large Christmas tree. "Guys… contact the US Marshalls…" He handed the picture to Morgan who put the picture on the table hastily and pulled out his phone, dialing who Reid had advised him to call. JJ leaned forward, tears stinging her eyes as she saw who the picture was of; Hotch, Haley and baby Jack. "The bastard!" He was going to go after Jack and Jessica, too.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Well, I was forced to torture you by not posting right away! No reviews = no update! I need to know what you think before I can give you more! Your reviews are my life blood, my drive, my breath! I have to have 'em to keep writing this story! Anyways, I hope you enjoy your awaited chapter. As always, please R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds… but I wish I owned Aaron Hotchner…**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence**

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BROOKS HOME

Manassas, VA

"Jessica Brooks! This is the US Marshall service! Open up!" Three large officers stood outside the large oak door, waiting for Jessica to answer. The blond woman quickly carried Jack to his bedroom and locked the door before carefully approached the front door and looking through the peep hole. "Show me ID, all of you." Her voice was muffled through the door but still audible. Each man slowly pulled out their credentials and held them up to the peep hole for her to see. Jessica knew that Foyet had killed her sister by pretending to be a Marshall, so she wasn't about to let them just waltz in.

Once she was sure they were legit, she unlocked the two deadbolts and deactivated the security system to allow them inside. The agent that had been staying with her, Agent Anderson, had run out to pick up groceries, so she was taking extra precautions to stay safe.

"Miss Brooks, where is Jack Hotchner?" The shortest of the officers, a balding, blond haired man, moved towards the bedroom the young boy was lock in. "What is this about?" Jessica turned her attention to the tall brunette man that was standing next to her protectively. "We believe you may be in danger, primarily Agent Hotchner's son." She searched his green eyes, looking for the truth. "Does this have anything to do with Aaron being implicated in these murders?" There was silence amongst the two men as the oldest returned with Jack in his arms. "We'll explain on our way to Quantico. Right now we need –" "NO!" Jessica stomped her foot in defiance, looking at him determinedly. "You tell me right now what happened! Is Aaron alright?" The elder agent nodded in compliance as he handed the small boy to the third agent standing at the door to take him to the car. The blond man, Agent Cooper, guided Jessica to her couch before explaining what happened. "Agent Hotchner has been taken by the UnSub–murderer he was accused of being. He sent a package to the BAU that had a picture of Agent Hotchner, your late sister, and your nephew. We don't know for sure if he plans on targeting you, but we just want to be safe."

Jessica brought a hand to her mouth in shock as the tears pushed past her eyes. "Is Aaron…" The man shook his head, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "No, Agent Hotchner is still alive. The… UnSub has Agent Hotchner and the BAU is looking for him. I understand the despair you are feeing, Miss Brooks, but we need to be on the move for both your safety and the safety of Agent Hotchner's son." She slowly nodded and stood, allowing them to escort her out to the armored SUVs. She wouldn't let Aaron lose his son, too.

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MARRIOT COURTYARD HOTEL

Richmond, VA

"Thanks, baby girl. We'll keep you posted." Derek Morgan ended the phone call as he walked into the hotel room he was sharing with Reid. Just like back in Quantico, Hotch and Rossi were given their own separate rooms while the rest of the team doubled up. JJ and Prentiss were just across the hall, Hotch's room next to theirs and Rossi's room next to Spencer and Morgan's. When the hotel management came by to ask if they still needed Agent Hotchner's room, the lack of key card activity catching their attention, Morgan informed them that they would need the room for the duration of the team's stay. He knew it was foolish, but he felt that if he gave up Hotch's room, in a way, he was giving up on Hotch. The rest of the team concurred.

Derek had ordered the entire team back to the hotel, himself included, to catch up on rest he knew no one would get. As he expected, JJ, Rossi, Prentiss, and Reid were all in the room looking over pictures they had taken of the evidence. "I'm glad you're all resting." The acting Unit Chief looked at the team skeptically as he collapsed on his bed, pulling out a manila folder that contained the profile and suspect list from nine years ago that Garcia had combined with the one assembled when they came out here.

"Any news on Jessica and Jack?" JJ's tired voice broke the thick blanket of silence that had overcome the team. Morgan didn't move the file that blocked his line of sight to the blond agent as he answered her. "The Marshall service picked her and Jack up. They're moving them to a secure location with multiple officers. They'll be fine." Everyone knew why they had assigned more than one Marshall to Jessica and Jack. No one wanted a repeat of what happened to Haley.

The silence settled around the team again as they continued studying the evidence and files they had. Derek took a pencil and drew lines through possible suspect's names that could be eliminated due to key discrepancies between them and the profile. "This suspect list is extensive. Sixteen years of people who could be this UnSub… this is going to take time…" He had marked off all of the suspects that were under 6'2"; the video had shown that the UnSUb was taller than Hotch, so they had something physical to work off of. He then limited the list to white men, which matched the description given by both Mr. Borden and Mr. Garrisson. That still left him twenty-five people. The list ranged from cops and firefighters to journalists and realtors. They had a lot of ground to cover.

"All right guys, we have a lot of people to interview tomorrow and we all need to be at our best. Get some rest and we'll meet in the lobby at seven tomorrow morning and start interviewing suspects." He watched the team as they hesitantly stood, fighting the weariness they felt. "Guys, we'll find him." Derek's words of encouragement, no matter however hollow they were, gave the team enough comfort to bring themselves to lay down and try to rest. They knew Hotch wouldn't want them killing themselves over him, so they forced themselves to relax and try to sleep. Hotch would make it. He was tough.

---

CRIME SCENE – JEFFERSON AND MAINE

Richmond, VA

Detective Warren Neal stood in front of the patrol car that had become part of the most important crime scene on the east coast. Following Agent Jareau's advice, the Richmond PD only informed the media that a hit and run had claimed the life of Officer Walters and left out the part about the missing Unit Chief. While he felt Agent Hotchner would be found faster if the public knew, he understood why the FBI wanted to keep it under wraps. If the public knew that an FBI agent, a Unit Chief no less, was the latest victim everyone would panic and lose faith in the efforts of law enforcement.

"Detective Neal, we've found a tired track that doesn't match any of the construction vehicles or the patrol car. We're going to create a mold of the track and run it through the system to get an exact make on the UnSub's vehicle." The young officer returned to the tire track he and his colleagues continued to work. Warren nodded in understanding. "Make sure you contact both me and Agent Morgan with the results." The elder detective turned and headed back towards his unmarked sedan as his cell phone rang. He had only taken two steps from the officers as he hastily flipped his phone open. "This is Neal." There was heavy breathing and a shout of pain in the background in response. "Who is this?" The detective put the phone on speaker as he motioned for the other officers to stop what they were doing. One of them pulled out a pen and pad of paper to make a transcript of the conversation.

_-- "You know who I am, Detective Neal."_

"Photographer."

The detective's voice was a grown as he realized the shout in the background had to have come from Hotch. "What the fuck do you want?" Sick laughter was his response as another shout of pain came from the demented man's captive.

_-- "I'm wondering why no one knows I have Agent Hotchner here. Don't you miss him?"_

"You know why that information wasn't released!"

Another shout of pain was heard, causing chills to run down the detective's spine.

_-- "As you can hear, Aaron and I are having a lot of fun. But, you're going to do us a favor. If you want Agent Hotchner to stay alive long enough for you to find him, you're going to tell the reporters exactly what happened to Agent Hotchner and you will release the video of his kidnapping to the media. You have one hour to get a press release out."_

"Listen, you sick son of a –"

The detective's tirade was cut off by a blood curdling scream that surely led to the agent losing consciousness. Neal had to reassure himself that it was for the best.

_-- "You have fifty-eight minutes, Warren. I'd hate for Agent Hotchner's son to find his daddy's dead body in his front yard."_

Another sick laugh filled the speaker before the call was ended, leaving everyone in a stunned silence. "Get Agent Jareau down to the station immediately." He sprinted to his car as one of the officers contacted the media liaison. They didn't have much time.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Ok, this chapter may be short, and you may have waited for it… but I think it was worth it. Things start getting interesting from here on out, folks! Twisting and turning on that great plot roller coaster! I hope you all enjoy and PLEASE R&R!! I need to know what you all think of the story!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence**

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RICHMOND POLICE DEPARTMENT

Richmond, VA

A petite, blond woman with an FBI identification badge pinned to the breast pocket of her dress shirt approached the oak wood podium as a sea of media swarmed the steps of the station. She cleared her throat in an attempt to steel her emotions before addressing the mob in front of her. "As many of you may know, a Richmond Police Officer was killed in a hit and run early two days ago. Officer Stephen Walters was transporting Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner of the FBI to the Richmond County Jail when both men were attacked by an assailant we have identified to be the killer known as The Photographer. While the assailant murdered Officer Walters we have received proof that Agent Hotchner is alive and being held captive by the Photographer. We received this video yesterday afternoon that shows how Agent Hotchner was taken. Please b advised that this video is extremely graphic and should not be viewed by the faint of heart." Agent Jareau closed her eyes and covered her ears as inconspicuously as possible. She didn't need to see or hear it again. She could tell by the horrified looks on the reporter's faces that the video was over, indicating that she could continue.

"If anyone has information on Agent Hotchner's where abouts or anything pertaining to this case, please call the tip line at the bottom of the screen. Thank you for your time." JJ stepped down from the podium and headed back into the station before the reporters could begin their slew of questions. She looked at Detective Neal who simply nodded his head in approval. They had gotten the press conference out with seven minutes to spare. They just hoped that had kept the Photographer satisfied to let up on Hotch.

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UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

Undisclosed City, VA

"I'm not going to break down and beg for my life, no matter what you do, including threaten my son." Hotch's voice was like ice, remaining emotionless despite the pain that was coursing through his body. His words went unanswered until a TV in the corner snapped on, showing a familiar blond woman give a press conference. Hotch's breath caught in his throat as the video of his kidnapping began playing on the screen. He had been disoriented after the first hit, so his memory of what happened was slightly foggy, until now. He suddenly understood why his head was pounding and his throat felt so bruised. "Is this supposed to intimidate me?" The Unit Chief's voice echoed through his dark dungeon. "I could do that to someone if they were handcuffed at gun point, too. You didn't achieve some great feat." His blood shot eyes locked on his assailant as he descended down the wooden steps towards his captive. "No, Agent Hotchner, I expect you to be humbled. Now the whole world knows how weak you truly are." The UnSub balled up his fist and brought it crashing across Hotch's face, splitting his cheek open and adding to the open wounds that marred his visage. Hotch moved his head with the blow, spitting out the blood that had accumulated in his mouth. He didn't respond to the UnSub, unsure whether he could keep his composure if he did. The Photographer had attacked the agent from the right approach. One of Hotch's worst fears was for anyone to see him injured, let alone incapacitated, and this UnSub had managed to show the entire nation what had happened to him in detail. Hotch forced himself to shrug those thoughts off, knowing that he had been strong and showed no weakness. No one would think any less of him… except for himself.

Aaron's thoughts were interrupted by a sharp crackled coming from the spark caused by the two car jumper cable clamps as they touched together, electricity flowing through it freely from the generator it was attached to. Hotch pursed his lips in an attempt to suppress the jolt of fear and dread that sprinted through him. The electric volt of energy lit up Agent Hotchner's bloodied features as the UnSub moved closer to him. Hotch's eyes never left those of his attacker, determined to show him he wasn't scared.

"Agent Hotchner, your brave façade is not necessary. I know you're scared… they were all scared." The UnSub lifted up the sides of Hotch's shirt before pressing the charged clamps to Hotch's bare flesh. Aaron's body began to thrash back and forth involuntarily as the electricity coursed through his body, the smell of burning flesh filling the room. Hotch clenched his eyes shut tightly, trying to block out the pain. The pain was so excruciating that he could only throw his head back in pain, his mouth agape with silent screams. The Photographer grinned with sick glee before pulling the cables away, laughing as Hotch fought to regain his precious breath.

Aaron gasped for air as he fought against his restraints, completely unaware of the camera that was recording their session. The UnSub had decided this was too good for just pictures. The BAU needed to watch and experience the pain. Hotch opened his weary eyes just before the UnSub pushed the cables against his right side, this time coaxing screams of agony. Somehow, even when in pain, Hotch still sounded dignified, like the fearless leader he was known as.

The UnSub shocked Hotch in the same manner five more times before the agent lost consciousness, lasting much longer than any of his previous victims. This pleased him to no end and only made him want to continue his torment with the veteran agent. No longer able to resist the urge, the Photographer retrieved a small bottle and a syringe, filling it with adrenaline. He needed Hotch awake for what was about to happen. "Wakey-wakey, Aaron…" He slid the needle into the crook of the agent's arm, slowly injecting him with the drug to bring him back to hell.

Hotch's eyes fluttered open as he woke to a coughing fit, trying to pull oxygen into aching lungs. He looked at his attacker through disoriented eyes as he winced with each breath. "Still not… done?" His breath hitched in pain, forcing him to remain silent.

The Photographer pulled out a pair of pliers, smiling sickly at Hotch as he opened and closed the menacingly. He bent forward, grabbing Hotch's bare left foot and resting it on his knee. "I don't want you running off, now." He took the pliers to Hotch's little toe, taking hold of the nail with the rusty tool. "Try not to scream. We both know how much talking hurts." With one swift move he dislodged the nail and ripped it from the agent's nail bed. He grinned as Hotch began to shout in pain, but was cut off as he began to choke due to his difficulty breathing. The UnSub pulled the three remaining smaller toe nails, then did the same with his right foot, leaving only the two big toe nails on each foot.

Aaron was covered in sweat, delirious from the throbbing pain coming from his blood soaked feet. The UnSub grabbed a handful of Hotch's hair, looking deep into his eyes. "Stay awake, Hotch. You'll miss the best part." He grabbed hold of Hotch's big right toe nail and yanked as hard as he could. Hotch fought back weakly but only aided in his assailant's efforts as his nail was forcibly removed. Aaron nearly blacked out as the pain overtook his body. Just as he thought he'd overcome the desire to pass out, the Photographer removed his last toe nail, causing pain that sent him spiraling back into the welcoming arms of darkness.

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**A/N: PLEASE R&R!!!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: So, I could have posted this a long time ago… well not that long ago, but sooner than I have, but that would take all the fun of being the author out of this! Just so you know, depending on the success of this story, this most likely not be my last fic. I already have two plots worked out for two more fics that I'm excited to write! So, the more you R&R the more fic-tastic stuff you get from me! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds… but I'm about to have to buy another friggin' notebook for this story!**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence**

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MARRIOT COURTYARD HOTEL

Richmond, VA

"Agent Rossi? This package arrived for you earlier today. UPS dropped it off, just like the one from before." The clerk at the front desk handed the elder agent a brown padded envelope that had been addressed just as before. He accepted it grimly before heading to the empty hotel lobby where he knew the whole team would be as they had agreed the night before. Everyone looked at the package in Dave's hand as he opened the door, mentally preparing themselves as best they could for what might be inside.

Rossi slid his thumb nail under the flap of the envelope and peeled it back very slowly, having already donned latex gloves to prevent damaging the evidence. There was complete silence as he pulled out the DVD that was sent to them. The team shuffled up to Derek and Spencer's room, which had somehow been decided as the meeting room. It was decided amongst them that there was no reason to wake Garcia at the early hour just to watch Hotch go through hell.

"Hello, BAU. I know I'm changing my 'modus operandi' by sending you a DVD instead of pictures, but this was just too good for you not to watch." The digitized voice spoke while the camera focused on Hotch's prone form tied to the chair. For the first time they were able to see what the room looked like. The room was not small by any means, but it wasn't exactly spacious. The dark, cinder block walls were bare apart from the random blood spatter that stood out like neon paint. A single dim light hung from the ceiling directly above Hotch, giving just enough light to make him visible to the camera. The room was obviously underground due to the almost foggy air that surrounded the dark haired agent which made the light look more like a yellow glow, surrounding Hotch almost angelically, a dark contrast to the rest of the room. The cold stone floor was covered in blood, just as the walls did, clearly the blood of past victims due to the brown color it had taken on. How Hotch hadn't completely lost it in the dark and empty room was beyond them, but they had come to expect the unrivaled strength from their boss.

They couldn't decide whether him being conscious was a good thing or not, but knew they would find out soon enough. The team was able to keep their emotions in check as their boss was forced to watch the press conference and the recording of his attack. JJ gasped in horror as the crackle of electricity was heard just before the cables made contact with Hotch's side. Morgan punched the wall angrily as he saw Hotch's silent screams, vowing to rip this UnSub's head off when they found him. They all froze as the UnSub repeated the action to his other side, this time screams of pain flowing from his mouth freely as his body convulsed. Spencer clenched his fists angrily while Rossi muttered curse words under his breath. Emily just stared at the screen blankly as she tried to compartmentalize what was happening. They all sighed in sad relief as their boss lost consciousness, knowing that he was temporarily relieved of his pain. That is, until the UnSub gave Hotch a shot of adrenaline, bringing him back for more pain.

JJ ran into the bathroom, vomiting the breakfast she had just eaten when the UnSub ripped off Hotch's toe nail. She couldn't watch anymore. Emily went to console her as the three men watched the rest of the torturous video. Morgan's face was etched with anger, mirroring that of both Reid and Rossi. They were relieved that the UnSub didn't wake Hotch up after slipping in unconsciousness a second time.

As Emily and a shaking JJ reentered the room, Spencer slowly pulled a plastic baggy out of the envelope that contained ten blood toe nails that had been painfully removed from Hotch's feet. JJ felt nauseous again, but forced herself to keep the bile down as tears streamed down her heart shaped face. Spencer's innocent voice broke the silence. "How can someone be so sick?" He knew the statistics, the profiles, the studies… but it still didn't justify what these UnSubs did.

Rossi placed a fatherly hand on the young doctor's shoulder to comfort him. In all honesty, the veteran profiler had been asking himself that since his first case. He had seen some awful things, even worse than this case, but never had it been one of his peers, let alone someone he knew as well as Hotch, that was on the receiving end of things.

Morgan's cell phone began to ring, the whole team becoming dead quiet as he put the phone on speaker. "Good morning, Baby Girl." Derek couldn't hide the hopelessness in his voice after seeing the video.

_-- "Please tell me he just passed out… that he's not dead."_

Derek sighed as he heard Garcia sob in the background. The UnSub must have sent the tech analyst the video. "Garcia, baby, Hotch will be ok. You know he's tough. He'll make it."

_-- "Damn right, because I know where this mother fucker sent the video to me from. He fucked up royally when he changed his methods. I back hacked him and found his IP address… he sent the e-mail from the Richmond Police and Fire Academy. This son of a bitch is either a cop or a fire fighter." _

Morgan leapt up from his chair and opened the folder containing the list of possible UnSubs. He continued marking off the list until there were only eight people left – five cops and three fire fighters. "Baby girl, you are a goddess!" It made sense. The UnSub was a narcissist. He would be part of the investigation.

_-- "Morgan, promise me you will beat the shit out of this bastard when you catch him."_

Derek didn't need to reply as Penelope ended the phone call. They both knew he would. He turned back to the team who had come alive with hope as they had narrowed down their suspect list. "Ok, let's try to find our best chance… we have Sergeant Dawson of the Richmond PD. He was Officer Walters' partner and could have easily gotten him to the lot."

Emily shook her head, recalling the information she had gathered from Detective Neal. "He was at the jail waiting for Walters and Hotch. Both witnesses and security cameras put him there." She marked his name off the list, moving to the next one. "What about Detective Neal? He worked both the original case and this one."

Spencer looked at her skeptically as his eidetic memory went into overdrive. "Detective Neal received the call from the UnSub when he demanded a press conference. There are five officers to corroborate his story." The team continued this process until they only had three suspects left.

"Ok, we have two firefighters and one police officer. Sergeant Newell and Lieutenant Fredericks of the Richmond Fire Department and Sergeant Mills of the Richmond PD." Rossi grabbed the keys to one of the SUVs, grabbing the profiles on the two firefighters. "How do you want to do this, Derek?" Morgan adjusted his sling carefully before taking some of the weaker pain killers. "Reid and I will go talk to Mills. Rossi, you, Prentiss, and JJ go to the firehouse and talk to Newell and Fredericks. If you think you have something, call me and make the arrest. In the mean time, JJ, I want you to call Garcia and give her these three names. I want everything there is to know about these men. I know it's going to be hard, but we have to put our emotions aside and profile better than we've ever profiled before." He didn't need to tell them to hurry. They already knew they were running out of time. The UnSub had already had Hotch for four days. They all knew that as the days went on, the torture became more brutal and the body parts her removed became more and more vital. They didn't want to receive another piece of their boss in an unmarked package.

---

RICHMOND POLICE DEPARTMENT

Richmond, VA

"Yes, we have Sergeant Mills in interrogation room A, waiting for you. If you need anything else, just let me know." Detective Neal shut his phone before throwing a sideways glance towards the aforementioned room. He couldn't believe that one of his men could have committed these unspeakable acts. Neal was already kicking himself for Hotch's kidnapping. If he had given the man a chance, he may still be with his team. Warren pushed his negative thoughts aside, knowing they'd do no good.

---

RICHMOND FIRE DEPARTMENT

Richmond, VA

"Agents, how can we help you?" Lieutenant Fredericks' skeptical tone indicated to the experienced profilers that he still believed Hotch was somehow guilty. JJ walked up to him confidently as Rossi and Prentiss trailed behind her. "Lieutenant, is Sergeant Newell around? I have a few questions for him." In the car it had been decided that JJ would occupy the Sergeant while Emily and Dave worked to break the higher ranking Lieutenant. Despite not technically being a profiler, Jennifer had learned enough from her colleagues, primarily Hotch, to be able to conduct an interview with an UnSub.

Fredericks nodded in affirmation as he radioed the Sergeant and asked him up to the front office. JJ led him into a private room as Rossi and Prentiss began to inconspicuously interrogate the Lieutenant. "Lieutenant, have you noticed any strange behavior from Sergeant Newell?" Emily met Frederick's eyes as she gauged his reactions. The Lieutenant nodded before throwing a look over his shoulder towards the firefighter in the room with JJ. "We've had morphine go missing lately from a few different ambulances. Newell's team has worked in all of them and when we confronted him about it, he was quick to join in the investigation and point the finger at his team. Usually, at least in this crew, we've got each other's backs no matter what." Rossi and Prentiss looked at each other as they continued walking towards the garage with the Lieutenant. Newell sounded really good for the UnSub.

---

JJ leaned across the table, smiling a warm smile at the built Sergeant across from her. "Sergeant Newell, I'm Agent Jareau. I'm with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit." He leaned back in his chair, looking at her skeptically. "You're a profiler?" JJ shook her head gently, her blond hair bouncing around her face lightly. "No, I'm the media liaison. I only have a few questions, this isn't an interrogation." If only she were a profiler, then she may have realized the Sergeant's paranoia had peaked.

In a flash of strength, Newell reach across the table and grabbed JJ by the collar of her shirt. She didn't have time to react before he swung her around and slammed her against the wall he was now facing. "Who told you!?" His eyes were wild as he slammed JJ against the wall again, causing her head to make contact with the hard surface, disorienting her slightly. Jennifer brought her hands up to his face and clawed at his eyes. He backhanded the blond to the floor as he screamed in pain. JJ landed with a thud as she tried to get back up to her feet. Newell brought his foot crashing against her ribs, coaxing a shout of pain from her, causing her to drop the gun she had pulled from her belt. The two of them struggled for the gun until a shot was fired. A body lay prone on the floor as firefighters rushed into the room, followed closely by the Lieutenant and the two FBI agents. "NO!"


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Ok, keep the reviews coming and I'll keep the chapters coming! Sorry to leave you with that cliff hanger, but I just couldn't resist! I am slightly evil… hehehe! I hope you enjoy this upcoming chapter, too! Let me know if anything is off or can be improved! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence**

---

RICHMOND POLICE DEPARTMENT

Richmond, VA

"Sergeant Mills, we appreciate your cooperation." Reid nodded awkwardly to the police officer as he followed Morgan out of the interrogation room. "He is definitely _not_ our UnSub." Spencer nodded in silent agreement with the acting unit Chief. The young doctor fiddled with his worn leather satchel, walking into the all too familiar conference room. "Hopefully the others had more luck than we did." As if on cue, Derek's phone started vibrating. He looked at the caller ID before flipping his phone open with a slight jolt of hope. "You find something, Rossi?" Any joy that may have been seen in his face quickly disappeared and was replaced with a look of despair. "Yea, Dave… we'll be right there." He closed his phone gently before looking at Reid, his voice soft. "We have to get to the hospital."

---

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

Undisclosed City, VA

A putrid odor filled the air as Hotch was jostled from his pain induced slumber. It didn't help the nausea he already felt from the pounding in his head, but he still refused to vomit. That would show too much weakness. "Fish hearts and livers. You did your research." Hotch was surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded, but more surprised that this UnSub had taken something so personal from the case when Reid had been captured and implemented it here. He immediately altered the profile he had mentally built to only include law enforcement. That was the only way he could have gotten a hold of the case file to find out such an intimate detail of the conditions Reid was held in. "What's next? Russian roulette with a pistol?" He furrowed his brown in both determination and an attempt to focus his vision well enough to see the man standing in front of him.

The UnSub backhanded Hotch, drawing more blood from the corner of the agent's mouth. "I had something else in mind." He left the room, the reassurance that he was gone from the locks on the door. Just as Hotch began to relax, he heard a low thrumming of gears turning as if a machine was warming up. Out of now where, there was a burst of an incredibly loud sound which reverberated off of the stone walls and increased in volume until the level was unbearable. Hotch tried to escape the painful sound surrounding him but his hands were still restrained, which prevented him from covering his ears. After a few moments he began to moan in pain, recognizing the excruciating pain as what he suffered from the effects of the car bomb. The loud and oppressive sound had caused another tear in his ear drum. "Hyperacusis." The sound had been replaced by the UnSub's informing voice, Hotch's pain continuing despite the break from the loud noise. He let his head hang limply as the pain consumed him, the disorienting effects overwhelming his senses. He didn't notice as the Photographer pulled out a syringe and a different bottle than before. "It helps." He smiled at the Unit Chief sickly as he watched realization wash over the man's face.

"Dilaudid? Really? Am I that much of a threat to you that you have to drug me?" He fought to keep his tone level. In all honesty, he was concerned about his attacker giving him such a powerful narcotic. Hankel only had Reid for two days and that had been enough to get him addicted. How long would he last? And in his deteriorating state, would he even wake up? His thoughts were becoming jumbled by the constant pain from his feet, sides, and now the hyperacusis in his right ear. He didn't have much time to contemplate his injuries before the Photographer injected him with an ample dose of the narcotic, sending him into an uncomfortable drugged stupor. He had to fight this. He would not become dependent.

---

RAPPAHANNOCK GENERAL HOSPITAL

Richmond, VA

Morgan galloped up to the front desk and flashed his credentials at the nurse stationed there, Reid fumbling behind him. Derek hadn't spoken the whole way there other than to tell the younger agent they were going to the hospital. Spencer had fought to silence the statistics and probable outcomes of any situation that involved a trip to the hospital that were racing through his mind. Now that they were there, approaching the waiting room and only seeing Rossi and Prentiss, the facts came flooding back with one simple question. "Where's JJ?" His voice was low, showing just how scared he was to hear the answer.

Derek hadn't even stopped to talk to his teammates as he walked into the hospital room the nurse had motioned towards. His heart stopped as his eyes rested on the unconscious form lying on the hospital bed, hooked up to numerous wires and monitors. "Damnit!" He ran his uninjured hand over his shaved scalp in frustration. How many more blows could they take like this? "Derek… I'm so sorry." He turned around and pulled the bruised media liaison into his strong arms. The paramedics had just finished examining JJ and she made it her priority to find the acting Unit Chief. She knew he would be in Sergeant Newell's room, watching the wounded man, willing for him to wake up. "JJ, there's nothing to be sorry for. He attacked you. You had to protect yourself, and I'm glad you weren't the one shot."

JJ winced as the strong agent hugged her a little too tightly, agitating her bruised ribs. Her heart shaped face was still beautiful despite the purple bruise that had formed on her defined cheekbone. "Derek… he was our only lead to Hotch and now he may never wake up." She let her eyes fall to the ground as she fought to suppress her emotions. Morgan shook his head and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Even if he was conscious, he wouldn't necessarily do anything. Just think of it this way; he can't hurt Hotch while he's unconscious in the hospital." Jennifer nodded, feeling slightly less guilty about what she had been forced to do. Derek was good at relieving her guilt. He had been the one to convince her to stop kicking herself over Reid's kidnapping. She knew why Hotch had chosen him to lead the team in his absence.

Sepncer rushed JJ and brought her into a gentle embrace. "JJ, when we get back, you're going to give me some lessons at the firing range." He smiled at her affectionately, the dread that had welled up inside of him vanishing for a few moments until he remembered why they were there. "So, this Sergeant James Newell seems to be our UnSub?" Dave and Emily nodded in unison as JJ sat in one of the chairs in the waiting room.

"James Newell was very adamant in helping with the investigation into his team when some morphine went missing. Classic narcissist." Emily's voice was calm and soothing as she looked at JJ, worried about her mental well being. The blond agent merely nodded, recalling the few words he spoke to her. "He uh, asked me if I was a profiler and while he was attacking me, he asked who told me. I know I'm not a profiler, but attacking an FBI agent in the middle of a firehouse seems too sloppy for such an organized killer as our UnSub. Are we sure we have the right guy and he didn't just attack me over the morphine allegations?" Her eyes met those of Rossi who nodded in agreement. "I think we missed something. This guy is too disorganized to be our UnSub… but he is still going down for assaulting a federal agent. I don't want to rule him out because with this level of psychosis, anything is possible, but let's not just settle with him."

Behind the team a scream of shock was heard, drawing the agents into Newell's room. The heart monitor continued its incessant beeping; indicating the patient hooked up to it was dead. The handle of a knife was protruding from his chest as blood dribbled from his open wound. Lying on his abdomen was an envelope with the acronym 'BAU' written on the top. Spencer slowly pulled out a photo of an unconscious Hotch who looked impossibly bloodier than before, as expected. On the back of the photo was a message for the team. 'You're looking the wrong way. Turn back to your big, long suspect list, or Hotch may not make it.' Rossi, JJ, Prentiss, and Morgan looked at each other in confusion, trying to understand how the UnSub could have gotten into the hospital undetected. Reid felt something else in the envelope and pulled out a Ziploc baggie, dropping it in apprehension when he saw what it was.

Morgan put a hand on Spencer's shoulder, pulling him away from the used syringe and nearly empty bottle inside the bag protectively. "Dilaudid." Derek understood why Reid had back away, knowing the memories of his time with Hankel and addiction to the narcotic were threatening to flood back to him. Dave gave the young doctor a knowing look. He didn't know all the, but Hotch had told him after he had given the young man a hard time about being late once that he was struggling with the drug Hankel had subjected him to. "Reid, Hotch will be ok. We know this UnSub wants his victims to feel pain. He won't keep drugging Hotch long enough for him to become addicted." Rossi's words of truth gave Reid a weird sense of comfort. He didn't wish that addiction on his worst enemy, but he also knew the escape it provided could be wonderful. His flashbacks were interrupted by Derek's smooth voice. "JJ, you and Reid get the hospital security tapes from the time Newell was admitted to when we found him dead and get Garcia to look over them. Our UnSub has to be on those tapes." In all honesty, Morgan wanted to get Reid away from the thoughts of the drug and occupied on the case. "In the mean time, Prentiss, Rossi and I will go over our original suspect list again. This is going to take some time, so let's get moving." The team moved on to their tasks in silent agreement. No one needed to verbally admit they were running out of time. That would make things too real.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Wow, so I am SOOO sorry for leaving you with such a short chapter for such a long period of time! I spent the weekend in Pensacola enjoying the sun and had no internet. But, you're patience is awarded with my longest chapter (I believe). I hope you all enjoy it. Please continue to R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, but do not fret, there will be more fics after this one!**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence**

**WARNING: ****This chapter contains extremely graphic violence, more than any other chapter. The level of sadism I reached it… rather appalling to myself, but I like it so it's staying. If you cannot handle extreme levels of violence and serious sadism, please skip the 'UNDISCLOSED LOCATION' part in the story. I will put a censored summary at the end of the fic for those of you who don't want to read it. I don't want any flames, you've ALL been fairly warned.**

---

MARRIOT T COURTYARD HOTEL

Richmond, VA

JJ threw the go-bag Morgan and Reid had brought to her on her bed haphazardly. She was fighting to hide just how sore she was, but knew the effort was pointless amongst the experienced profilers who kept her company. Emily hadn't asked her if she was ok, most likely picking up on her annoyance after Morgan had nearly interrogated her about the extent of her pain. He didn't want her to aggravate her injuries by returning to the field before the doctors gave her clearance, but quickly dropped the subject when she pointed out his broken arm. Reid had laughed, pointing out her victory as one of the reasons why she was such a great media liaison. She knew how to get people to shut up.

She knew the team was in the boys' room looking over the suspect list, but she really needed to shower and relax for a few minutes. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion and she needed a moment to clear her mind and catch up. JJ slowly peeled her clothes off her ivory skin before slinking into the shower, letting the steamy water massage her stress away. She wanted to talk to Will and hear Henry's jubilant giggles more than anything, but she didn't have the energy to explain everything that had transpired to her Cajun love. She would just force herself to wait until the case was over.

The fluffy, white hotel towel was gently on her bruises as the blond agent tied it around her body. Now that she was covered up, she began to dig into her go-bag before pulling out a pair of black slacks and a crystal blue button up shirt. JJ had multiple outfits in her go-bag to ensure a professional appearance during her press conferences, so she had more options than the rest of the team usually did. Before she could make it back into the bathroom, the unfamiliar jingling of a cell phone ringtone filled her empty room. She pulled her slacks and bra on before answering the foreign phone. "Hello?"

_-- "Hello, Agent Jareau. Don't even think about going to see your team just yet."_

JJ froze as the familiar digitized voice came over the phone. "What do you want?"

_-- "Checking to see how your search for me is going."_

She put the phone on speaker and pulled her shirt over her head, staring at the phone screen to make sure it didn't disconnect. "Now why would you do that?" Her voice was full of venom.

_-- "Because poor Aaron is losing faith in his team. We wouldn't want that, now would we? You're looking at narcissistic, left-handed, law enforcement figures, right? So, basically Hotch, just not quite as pathetic."_

"You bastard!" Her voice was a growl as his sick laughter began.

_-- "Go run to your team. I don't think Hotch is going to be speaking any discernable words in about five minutes. So, if you want to talk to him, you'd better hurry."_

JJ ran across the hall, opening Morgan and Reid's room with her spare key. Silence fell over the team as they saw the desperation in her eyes. "Hotch? You there?" Her voice trembled as the entire team's attention shifted on the phone she had placed at the center of the table.

_-- "JJ?" _

A deep, haggard voice now spoke to the team. They recognized the deep tone, but the fatigue present in their superior's voice was something completely foreign to them. While the team was overwhelmed with joy at the opportunity to speak with Hotch, their hearts broke at the amount of pain he was in, evident in his voice.

_-- "Are you all there right now?"_

Emily piped up, her smooth voice cracking in the slightest. "Yea, Hotch, we're all here. Working on the case." They heard a tired sigh from the missing agent, followed by a weak cough.

_-- "What do you have? Go over the suspect list. Maybe I can help you eliminate some of them."_

Derek stifled a laugh at his boss' persistence despite his horrible predicament. "Well, we've narrowed our UnSub down to law enforcement. Autopsy indicates he's left-handed, deduced from the cuts we fou–" He stopped immediately. Hotch knew what hand the UnSub used, the fucker had already cut the man up. The Unit Chief didn't acknowledge what Morgan said, moving on as if unfazed.

_-- "This UnSub is definitely in his early to mid forties… no distinguishable marks that I've seen, but he's ambidextrous. Don't rule someone out due to handedness. He's also tech savvy. Between the videos and the hyperacusis he's induced, I'd say he's substantially experienced. He's smart, so instead of looking at the last people you eliminated, look at the people you eliminated the second time through the suspect list. He would do something to turn suspicions away from him after a second look."_

He was silent for several moments before breaking into another violent coughing fit, which only served to further weaken his voice.

"Aaron, rest. We'll find this son of a bitch." Dave's voice was calm, hiding his worry with an art he had practiced from years of dealing with these types of situations.

_-- "No… there's one thing I need…" _

He began to cough again, feeling his voice threatening to fail him.

_-- "Jack and Jessica… are they safe?"_

"Yes, Hotch. Nothing will to happen to them. Jack said he's going to help you work on the case." Reid's young voice carried to the phone softly. He was almost afraid to talk to Hotch now that he had been given dilaudid. What if the drug was nothing to the Unit Chief? What if he now thought Reid was pathetic for not being able to resist such a feeble temptation? He had to push those thoughts aside. He couldn't help Hotch if he was second guessing himself.

Hotch couldn't help but smile at what Reid had told him. Jack and Jessica were going to be ok. It wouldn't matter what happened to him if something happened to his son.

_-- "Thanks… keep working the case. Trust the profile. And above all else, trust yourselves and each other. You are a very capable team and I trust each of you with my life…"_

His voice remained monotonous despite the scratchiness that had taken over. JJ felt the tears return to her eyes as his breaths evened out, indicating he had slipped back into unconsciousness.

_-- "Don't hang up yet." _

The digital voice returned, much to the chagrin of the team.

_--"I'm glad you all got to have your heart-to-heart with Agent Hotchner, but as you can hear, the fun I've had with him has tuckered him out. Oh, and by the way, stop wasting your time trying to trace the call and checking security tapes. You won't find me that way. Too many years of practice and just too plain good in general. I really do wish you the best of luck, though. I rather like Agent Hotchner. It would be a shame to have to kill him."_

The following click and dial tone indicated the phone call had ended. A sinking feeling settled into the pits of the team's stomach as it settled with them just how badly Hotch was injured. After a few moments of recovering silence, the team set to working again to try to find the right UnSub. That's when all five agent's phones began to ring simultaneously, causing them all to freeze. They knew who was calling them before they answered. Each agent placed their phone on the table and put it on speaker. No one wanted to hold the phone against their ear.

_-- "Don't hang up, any of you, or he dies."_

They looked at each other worriedly, not daring to end the call.

---

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

Undisclosed City, VA

"Don't hang up, any of you, or he dies." The UnSub couldn't help but smile at how ingenious he was. He grabbed Hotch's hands and strapped them to metal plates, attaching the electrical wires to the edges. "Try not to scream, Hotch, your team is listening." Aaron looked at him darkly, annoyed at being from his comfortable unconscious state. He knew the UnSub's goal was to torture him physically and psychologically. He had to make sure he didn't scream. He couldn't make his team feel guiltier than they already did.

Hotch looked up at one of the microphones he knew had been transmitting his attacker's voice. They needed to know. "This isn't your fault." Hotch's scratchy voice was cut off abruptly as the electric current began to flow into his hands. He bit his lip to silence his screams, blood spilling down his chin.

In an attempt to get him to stop fighting, the UnSub drove his fist into his victim's stomach, forcing his mouth open, screams tumbling out shortly after. Hotch threw his head back in pain as he continued to scream, no longer able to hold the shouts of agony back. The UnSub continued this for five more minutes, stopping as Hotch gasped for breath greedily. His voice was weak and cracking, barely audible to the team on the other end of the phone call. "I'm ok… I'll be ok…" He had to try to reassure his team. They couldn't lose faith or began doubting themselves.

"No, you won't." The UnSub brought a chisel to the base of Hotch's left ring finger, looking at him menacingly. Hotch's expression was unwaveringly disoriented as he realized what the UnSub was going to do. He was barely conscious as it was so his reactions were even more non-existent than usual. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction of showing him fear, even if the Photographer had already seen his anguish. With one sold strike, the Photographer brought a weighted hammer down on the chisel, separating Hotch's finger from his hand. The cry of pain that passed Hotch's lips was enough to make someone's hair stand on end and the blood freeze in their veins.

The UnSub smiled sickly at his victim as he waved the digit back and forth in Hotch's face. He pressed the bloody end of the finger to the man's forehead, rubbing back and forth to leave a bloody trail. "Don't worry, Hotch. First you drove your wife away, and then got her killed. You don't need your wedding ring finger anymore." Hotch forced himself to stop his shouts, moaning loudly in agony as the UnSub's words hit him. It was his fault Haley was dead. If he had taken that transfer to the white collar crime unit– "No… it's not… my fault…" The fatigue was even more apparent in his voice. "George Foyet was a… sick bastard… just like you… and just like him…" Hotch's dark eyes locked with those of his attacker. "…I will kill you."

Sick laughter filled the room, the echo making it multiply. "Me first, Agent Hotchner." He walked out of the room, leaving Hotch to bleed in silence.

---

MARRIOTT COURTYARD HOTEL

Richmond, VA

_-- "Me first, Agent Hotchner."_

The team listened to the disappearing footsteps and the tumbling of locks following just before the defeating sound of dial tone. Just like that, Hotch was gone.

JJ had wrapped her shaking arms around a frozen Reid, his supervisor's screams of pain freezing him where he stood. Morgan had punched a hole through the wall in anger. Emily sat still, expressionless while Rossi paced through the room methodically. They were dealing with possibly the most sadistic killer they had ever encountered, and that bastard had Hotch. Not only that, but they had been completely wrong about who they thought the UnSub was and were now back to the eighty person long list to try and find the Photographer.

"Reid, what did Hotch tell us about our UnSub?" Morgan's stern voice shook the young doctor from his frozen state. He needed Spencer's ability to recall the phone call perfectly. Spencer nodded warily before speaking. "He said our UnSub is ambidextrous, early to mid forties, and very tech savvy. He fits our profile, so, at least we know we aren't too far off." His words didn't do much to comfort the team, as Reid knew they wouldn't. His incessant need to state the facts became persistent in his nervousness. "So, who does that leave us with?" He looked at the desperate team, knowing from their looks it would be a long night.

---

**Ok, so here's what happened….**

**The UnSub cut off Hotch's left ring finger because he no longer needed it after losing his wife, after electrocuting Aaron's hands substantially. It was… more gruesome than that, but I'm sparing you from the gorier details.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: DUN DUN DUN!!!! Things are getting interesting in CMville!!!! Is the anticipation killing you yet? Hmm? Hmm? It will be after these next few chapters! So, remember to R&R so you can get those chapters sooner!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds…. still…**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence**

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FBI HEADQUARTERS – BEHAVIORAL ANALYSIS UNIT

Quantico, VA

Penelope Garcia sat in silence except for the symphony of clicking that came from the keyboard she was typing on frantically. She was inputting the new data she had received from the team to give her search new life. New parameters were entered into her databases, searching for the bastard who had her boss.

Something binged in the corner of her screen, drawing the blond's attention to the new e-mail entitled 'BAU's Finest'. The e-mail opened a live feed of Hotch sitting tied to the chair, a blank expression on his face, pain underlying each of his features. He was in shock. "Oh my God… oh my God…" She looked at the screen with horror etched in her face. "Hotch… oh Hotch!" Garcia pressed redial on her phone, typing with new vigor as she waited for Morgan to answer.

_-- "What do you got for me, Baby Girl?"_

"Our UnSub is sending me a live feed of Hotch… I'm trying to trace the IP address right now."

Garcia froze as she noticed Hotch begin to wince in pain, though no one was around him. "He's… he's hallucinating…" She noticed a syringe and bottle discarded at the deteriorating agent's feet. "He gave him more dilaudid…" Penelope felt the tears threaten to fall again, sniffling loudly.

_-- "Baby Girl, I need you to focus… try to race that IP. Call me if anything changes with Hotch, ok? You can do this."_

"Ok." That was the only response she could muster before disconnecting the call, shifting into overdrive as she did her best work to find the sick bastard.

---

MARRIOTT COURTYARD HOTEL

Richmond, VA

Morgan paced back and forth as he thought through everything they knew about their UnSub. In all honesty, it wasn't much. Reid was watching the video they had been sent yet again, looking for details about where their Unit Chief was being kept. "There!" Reid pointed to a spot on the screen that had been lit up briefly by a jolt of electricity. "That brick pattern… it's the pattern that was used to reinforce bunkers that had been built during the civil war… there are seven within a twelve mile radius surrounding Richmond… none of them are being used for anything."

Dave interrupted Spencer's ramblings. "Spencer, are you sure?" His tired eyes rested on the man who nodded vigorously. "Yes. There's also an inscription on the wall. 'I know I am free, for I have seen the face of Father Abraham and have felt him'. This was a quote from a freed black slave that was used in support of the President after Richmond had been captured by the Union. This bunker must be nearby." He pulled out a map, pointing out each of the seven locations. "It will take time. Some of these bunkers are dilapidated and all of them are large in size. It will take days to go through them. Time we don't –" The young doctor was cut off by the shrill ring of Morgan's phone.

The large agent put the phone on speaker, Garcia's frantic voice impeding his greeting.

_-- "Guys, I have a general location in a five mile radius."_

Spencer piped up immediately. "Garcia, cross reference the area with locations of Civil War bunkers and see if you can pull it in any closer."

_-- I'll cross reference the map, but I can't get in any closer. This guy is scary good. He's using a disposable cell to connect through the mobile web and is refreshing his IP every forty seconds. Only problem for him is he's still connected to the satellite, which gives me enough time to give you five miles and… three bunkers. I'm sending the coordinates to each of your phones. And guys… fuck him up."_

She ended the call, leaving the team in silence to plot their possible rescue. Emily pointed to one of the bunkers on the map that was within the five mile radius they'd been given. "This one is too close to the freeway for our UnSub to have held and tortured twenty-three people there, so that leaves us two." Everyone looked at Morgan for direction, who merely nodded in agreement.

"Ok, Emily, JJ, and Reid, go to the East bunker. Rossi and I will go to the West. We wait for SWAT and go in with them, but no matter what, we do _not_ let Richmond PD know about this. If we're right and our UnSub is RPD, he'll kill Hotch before we can get there. If you find anything, radio me. We'll do the same. We've got to –" His orders were cut off by a knock at the door. Emily sauntered up to the door and retrieved the package from the bell hop. It was cold, as if it had been stored in a freezer. When she opened the package, she realized why. She slowly placed the package on the table, sitting on the edge of one of the beds to steady herself.

Morgan packaged the finger back up and placed it in the hotel room freezer to preserve it. It was crude, but it was all they had time for. "Let's move." Derek's voice was grim as the team headed out to the SUVs. They weren't coming home without Hotch.

---

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

Undisclosed City, VA

Hotch woke as his whole body began to shake violently. The amount of blood loss had caused his body temperature to decrease rapidly, signs that he was slowly bleeding out, albeit slowly. He was sure that the blood loss was making him see things… or was that the drugs? He had only been injected twice, or was it three times, but he knew the UnSub had brought him close to overdosing each time. He didn't feel too much of a need for the drugs, but figured that was largely due to pride and that he had witnessed what the addiction did to Reid first hand. He had enough experience to be able to psychologically discipline himself from desiring the narcotic… at least for now.

He felt the self loathing set in again at his realization of just how weak he had been. Hotch had screamed in pain at the torture for his teammates to hear. How could they have faith and push on to find this UnSub when he had been so weak? No, he had to stop going down this path. Anyone who went through what he had gone through at the hands of this man would have reacted the same way… right?

His mind went back to what Foyet did to him in his own apartment and then to Haley because of his inability to stop the man. Tears stung his eyes as he thought of his son. What if he was too weak to live through this UnSub's torture? Then Jack's only memory would be of how his dad had failed to protect his mother and eventually himself. "I'm so sorry, Jack." Despite the fact his words were barely louder than a whisper, they held more weight than anything else he had said while in captivity. _I won't fail him. _He composed himself with those thoughts as his body went numb with pain. His self doubt and loathing was pushing at the back of his mind to be set free, threatening to completely control him. Aaron had to regain his self control. It was the only chance he had at surviving. All he had left to hold onto was Jack, his whole world.

---

PROTECTIVE CUSTODY HOME

Farifax, VA

Jessica looked at the orange numbers of her clock as her phone began to ring. It was 12:53 in the morning. Whoever it was had better have had a damn good reason to wake her up. "What!?"

_-- "Jess? I know it's late, but I needed to let you know."_

She sat straight up in bed as she recognized the voice.

"Penelope? What is it? Did you find Aaron? Is he…"

_-- "We may have found his location. The UnSub changed his MO and screwed up in the process. I was able to track his location and the team is on their way there. I wasn't supposed to call you, but you needed to know."_

Jessica couldn't help but smile despite her nerves at Garcia's kind gesture.

"Will you call me as soon as you know something?"

_-- "Of course. Try to get some sleep. Jack is going to need you tomorrow."_

"Hey, Penelope… thanks." There was a great amount of warmth for the first time in a long time in Jessica's voice. It had to be true. They would find Aaron and he would be ok. Everything would be ok.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: WILL HE BE FOUND!? WILL HE BE DEAD!? ALIVE!? WHO KNOWS!? Not even I know all the answers right now! The outcome depends on your reviews!!! So, R&R!!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds… but I think Aaron Hotchner will own a restraining order against me before I'm done!**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence**

---

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

Undisclosed City, VA

"Well, Aaron, I hate to leave you like this, but work calls…" The Photographer leaned in closely to his victim. Hotch fought to keep his eyes open, his plan was depending on whether he could stay conscious or not. He began to mumble under his breath, forcing the UnSub to lean in closer to hear him. "What's that, Hotch?"

"Fuck… you…" Aaron used all the energy he had to bite down on the ski mask, pulling it from his captor's head in the ensuing struggle. He met his captor's eyes, taking in the man's features. "Y… you!? How could you do this!? You're –" Hotch's incredulous shouts were cut off by a punch directly to his jaw. The Photographer was pissed.

"You fucking dumb ass! You just signed your death warrant!" He pulled his fists back repeatedly, smashing them into the FBI agent's face. His sick laughter filled the room as his hands were covered in Hotch's blood. He stopped his assault just before Hotch could reach unconsciousness. The UnSub looked at his work proudly. Hotch's nose was broken as was his right orbital bone which was protruding from his cheek just slightly. Blood was pouring from his mouth, his jaw severely dislocated. His brow was split open, adding to the blood that covered his face. His breathing was haggard and uneven, his head hanging weakly as he fought to stay conscious.

"Dey'll… hind… oo…" His words weren't even intelligible through his broken jaw.

"They'll find me? Really? I'm counting on it, right after they find your cold, dead body, beaten beyond recognition." He kicked his steel toed boot out, smiling at the resulting crack of Hotch's ribs. Aaron wheezed in pain as he coughed up more blood, staining his shirt that hadn't been white in days. He looked up at his attacker defiantly, giving him a blood smile. "I… win…"

The Photographer looked at him with fury. He was right. Hotch had forced him to kill him prematurely by finding out his identity. He wouldn't admit that to the profiler, even if he already knew. "Really, Agent Hotchner? We'll see what Jack thinks when he gets your body in a box." The UnSub pulled out a .9mm hand gun, pointing it straight at Hotch before firing twice. "I'll leave you to your long deserved death. It was fun, Aaron." He threw the gun into the cell before leaving. The BAU would find Hotch dead. They would never be able to trust themselves again. His identity would stay a secret. He won.

Aaron's eyes went wide at the searing pain, nearly bulging out of his head. He looked down at the holes in his chest and stomach that had blood flooding from them. He felt himself slowly losing his grip on reality. He was going to die at the hands of the bastard he worked to catch. Hotch has failed.

---

EAST BUNKER

Richmond, VA

"CLEAR!" Emily's voice rang out over the silence of the bunker. JJ and Reid walked up behind her, guns drawn, an army of SWAT officers taking up the rear. They continued clearing each room until there was only one left at the end of the hall. The three agents could barely breathe through the anxiety as they approached the precarious door.

Reid kicked the locked door with all his might, putting the techniques Morgan had taught him into action as he kept his gun raised as the team entered. He wasn't sure whether to be excited or deflated at the sight before him. "Morgan… there's no one where. We're going to keep searching."

_-- "Ok, Reid. We'll let you know once we've cleared the bunker."_

"Be careful." Spencer cut the radio communications on his end. Now they just had to wait and hope that Rossi and Morgan found Hotch before it was too late.

---

WEST BUNKER

Richmond, VA

"Rossi, we can't wait for SWAT to get there! Reid, Prentiss, and JJ didn't find him, so that can only mean Hotch is in there!" Morgan glared at the older agent furiously. How could he be so calm at a time like this? "Derek, I understand your frustration, but if we go in there without back up, we could get ourselves or Hotch killed." Dave put his hands up in an attempt to calm the angry agent. It didn't work. "Yea, and if we stay out here, Hotch dies for sure. I'd rather chance my life than guarantee his death. You can come if you want." Morgan brushed past Rossi angrily as he drew his weapon with his good arm. Dave rolled his eyes, following Morgan into the bunker.

"We clear one room at a time, together." Rossi's stern words let no room for argument as he turned the knob, allowing Morgan to enter with his gun drawn. "Clear." The acting Unit Chief's disappointment was evident in his voice. That's when they heard a loud thud coming from a room down the hall. Time seemed to stand still as both men looked at the foreboding door.

Morgan was at the locked door in the blink of an eye, waiting only a millisecond to make sure Rossi was behind him before kicking it down. The sight inside made both men freeze for only a moment before Morgan was inside the room. In the center was a chair that had tipped over, an unmoving Hotch still tied to it. Rossi quickly cut the ropes, laying the beaten agent flat on his back. Morgan checked for Hotch's pulse, pulling his hands back which were already sticky with Aaron's blood only long enough to painfully remove his shirt from under his Kevlar vest and sling. He ripped Hotch's shirt open to see the wounds clearly before attempting to clot the blood with his own shirt. He instantly wished he hadn't seen the damage done to his superior's body.

Rossi was hanging up from his call to the paramedics that had just arrived outside. He stood unmoving at his post at the door, not only because he needed to ensure the paramedics came to the right room, but because he felt like staring at Hotch was invading a level of privacy the Unit Chief deserved. He'd never want anyone to see him like this. It wasn't right for such a strong man to look so broken. He was jarred from his thoughts as a team of paramedics rushed into the room with a backboard. Everything happened so fast.

Morgan let go of Hotch after two paramedics practically pulled him back. He couldn't look away from the fallen agent, forced to watch helplessly as they quickly secured him to the backboard and rushed him into the ambulance. There was no discussion between Rossi and Morgan. Dave already knew he was staying with the crime scene while Derek went to the hospital. Now he just had to get the team to the scene. "Emily… we found Hotch… he's still alive, Morgan's riding with him to the hospital… no, he's not conscious, but I need you all here to help find this UnSub." He ended the call without much adieu, looking at the bloody scene before him. He was going to kill this son of a bitch.

---

EAST BUNKER

Richmond, VA

Emily closed her phone slowly, turning to face the team. "They found Hotch." She put her hand up calmingly before the two agents erupted with questions. "I don't know anything except that he's unconscious and Morgan is with him on the way to the hospital. Rossi needs us at the scene… they didn't find the UnSub." Reid and JJ gave Emily a hollow look. They weren't sure they'd be much help, considering the circumstances, but they'd be there for Hotch nevertheless. "Let's go. The crime scene deteriorates by ten percent every thirty minutes it's left unattended." Reid put on his most professional voice he could, trying to suppress the anxiety he felt by rattling off more facts. He wasn't sure he could handle being in his superior's torture chamber, but he would force himself to try, even if it killed him.

JJ moved lifelessly, her stare tear filled, yet blank. How could this happen? Was Hotch going to survive? He was the strongest of all of them and now his life was most likely hanging by a thread. How could any of them survive if he didn't?

Emily was compartmentalizing to the best of her ability. She couldn't let her concerns for her supervisor take over her thoughts. She had to focus on finding his attacker. Hotch would get justice. She would ensure that.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Ok, this is going to get brutal. My medical knowledge equals none, so these chapters are going to be a little choppy. Just, hold onto your hat and pretend that it's all plausible. I'm updating a little earlier today because I have things to do for the rest of the day and I really want to get you guys a chapter. So, please enjoy!!!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence**

---

RAPPAHANNOCK GENERAL HOSPITAL

Richmond, VA

"We need to get these GSW's to stop bleeding before he goes into hypovolemic shock." The brunette woman pulled out more gauze from a panel on the side of the ambulance and pushed it against the bleeding agent's body. "Call the trauma center and tell them to have an OR ready for two GSW's and three units of O negative when we get him off the bus. Drive faster!" One of the male paramedics moved an oxygen mask over Hotch's face to ensure he'd keep breathing.

Morgan stared at his friend silently, the erratic beeping of the heart monitor lulling him into a daze. This was his fault. He shouldn't have wasted time arguing with Rossi. Those few minutes he had wasted could have made a difference between whether Hotch would make it or not. No matter what happened, he had failed. If he hadn't wasted his time chasing after Newell, he would have found the bunker sooner. If he hadn't been to weak and allowed Mr. Garrisson to break his arm, none of this would have happened.

His self loathing was interrupted by a steady beep, indicating Hotch had flat-lined. Everything seemed to be muted in the ambulance, save the persistent heart monitor, as the paramedics began to work frantically. Derek felt like he was hearing things from underwater, the paramedics order of 'clear' coming out muffled. The muscular agent felt like he was suffocating, subconsciously refusing to breathe until Aaron did. Just as he felt himself getting light headed he heard the intermittent beeping of the heart monitor start up again.

"He's back! We can't afford to lose him again. Turn on those lights! Let's move!" The female paramedic continued barking out orders until they pulled into the parking lot, loading Hotch onto a stretcher, and sprinted him to the OR. Morgan was too dazed to fight with the paramedics who were preventing him from following Hotch. He just stood there in the doorway, fighting the thoughts of Hotch dying on the table moving to the front of his mind. Derek didn't even realize he was moving until he found himself sitting in a secluded waiting room. That's when he noticed how horrible he looked. He was only wearing a bloodied Kevlar vest over his upper body in place of his shirt. The sling supporting his left arm was painted the same crimson liquid. Both hands had dried blood on them, solidifying how inescapable the situation was.

His eyes shifted to the hallway as he heard a familiar click-clack of heels. "Hey, Garcia." Morgan's voice held no hope as his eyes rested on the tech goddess who approached him. "Hey, sugar. I brought you a clean shirt and the… uhm… last package you received from the UnSub. The doctor's may be able to reattach his…" Penelope couldn't say the word. She had nearly lost all sense of self control just driving to the hospital with the finger in a cooler next to her.

Derek let her remove the Kevlar vest and sling before putting the shirt on him. He didn't need her to do it for him, but he knew taking care of others was how Garcia coped. Penelope laid her head against his chest as Morgan wrapped his good arm around her trembling shoulders. "Please, Derek, tell me he's going to make it. Tell me its gunna be ok." He kissed her forehead lovingly as he rubbed her shoulder in an attempt to calm her. "I wish I could, baby." He rested his chin on her feathery hair, letting her steady breathing calm him.

---

WEST BUNKER

Richmond, VA

"I've got something!" Reid crouched several feet away from the fallen chair they'd found Hotch tied to. The three other agents slowly walked over to Reid, their eyes falling on the black material in his hands. "A ski mask?" JJ's gentle voice barely traveled through the room, the gruesome surroundings suppressing her desire to even move. Emily nodded, pointing to a wet spot on the mask. "It looks like blood and saliva. Maybe Hotch bit the mask and pulled it off. Perhaps he figured out our UnSub's identity." Rossi nodded in agreement. "Perhaps that's what set him off. He wasn't counting on Hotch finding out who he was, so he shot him instead of baking him alive." Spencer looked back at the mask. "Well, we now have some DNA to check against our suspects. By the looks of the conditions of this room, the DNA is too deteriorated to run it through the system, but it will work in a comparison against a DNA sample."

JJ looked through the doorway, her thoughts returning to Aaron. "The only person who can identify our UnSub is on an operating table fighting for his life, if Hotch was even in a state of mind to recognize him…" The team grew silent at JJ's words. They were painfully true. Hotch was their only lead.

---

RAPPAHANNOCK GENERAL HOSPITAL

Richmond, VA

"I'm here for Aaron Hotchner. Agent Morgan called me and told me he'd been rushed here." Jessica looked at the receptionist frantically as she pointed to the waiting room the FBI agent and analyst were in. "C'mon, Jacky. We're going to wait for daddy with Derek and Penelope." She fought to keep her tear filled voice steady as she saw the two agents sitting in silence. Penelope immediately hopped up and pulled Jack into her arms. "Wow, Jack! You've gotten SO big!" The young boy beamed with pride. "C'mon bud, let's get some ice cream!" She led the young boy from the waiting room. He didn't need to hear what Morgan was about to tell Jessica.

"H… how is he?" Her voice quivered with every syllable she spoke, her eyes searching Derek's for truth. "He's still in surgery. Hotch lost a lot of blood and suffered two gunshot wounds to his abdomen. He has cuts and burns covering his body… and more that you really don't want to know." Morgan's voice was calm as he held the now sobbing woman in an attempt to soothe her. "Hotch is the strongest FBI agent and man I know. If anyone can pull through this, he can." Jessica nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes, not caring about smudging her make-up. "I know… he's the strongest person I know. I'm worried about him psychologically. So soon after that bastard attacked him and killed Haley. I'm scared he won't recover." Derek nodded knowingly. Hotch would tell everyone he was fine and internalize everything. He would pass his psych evaluation with flying colors, but he'd never be 'ok', whatever that was.

They sat in silence for hours, Garcia only able to kill about thirty minutes before returning with Jack. The team joined them all after securing the scene, refusing to leave until they heard something about their supervisor.

---

Monitors flashed, machines beeped, and tubes pumped fluids into the unconscious agent's limp body. The surgeon flashed his scalpel against Hotch's pale skin, removing the two bullets with a practiced skill. The knife lacerations had been stitched up already, as had the gash in his brow and temple. The protruding orbital bone was still a problem, though the wound had been cleaned. "Alright, let's get these GSW's sewn up and then we can get the facial surgeon in here to take care of the orbital bone and jaw." He worked quickly, watching the agent's weak vitals as they fluttered back and forth, precariously close to going back into defib.

Hours upon hours passed as the surgeon worked to repair the orbital bone. Luckily, he was able to set the pins and plates in both the orbital bone and jaw which would ensure a quicker recovery. Unfortunately, the amount of bandages covering Aaron's body made the thought of recovery seem impossible. Hotch hadn't even woken from his coma.

---

Rossi carefully woke Jessica as the surgeon approached the group. Garcia had taken Jack to the hotel with the US Marshals so he could sleep. There was no point in the boy staying up all night when he didn't know what all was going on.

"Umm… Aaron Hotchner?" The five agents stood with Jessica, causing the doctor to stop in slight shock. He wasn't expecting so many people to be here for one man. "_Family_ of Aaron Hotchner?" Jessica spoke up with force before Morgan even had the chance to protest. "This _is_ his family. What do you have to tell us?" Her stare was firm as a sense of warmth filled each member of the team. They really were a family.

The doctor nodded hesitantly before speaking. "We were able to stop the bleeding and repair the damage done to his orbital bone and even reattached his finger. With time and therapy he could regain full use of his finger. He had high levels of dilaudid in his system, but we can't tell if he will develop any dependency to the drug. It all depends on the individual." He stopped nervously, forcing Morgan to speak up impatiently. "Just tell us the bad news you're holding back." His sharp words only aided the effect his dark eyes were having on the doctor as he could do nothing other than cooperate. "Aaron has slipped into a coma, and with his extremely weakened physical state, it could be weeks till he wakes up. Honestly, it's all up to him. He could wake up tomorrow. It depends on how much he's fighting. There's nothing more we can do but give him pain killers to make this easier." He turned from the group of people to let them absorb what he had just told them. Things weren't getting any easier any time soon.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Ok, if you're getting bored, don't worry, things will pick up… but will it be in the way you wanted? Heheheh we'll see!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds… but I want to own Aaron Hotchner**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence**

---

RICHMOND POLICE DEPARTMENT

Richmond, VA

"Why the hell wasn't I told about this raid? He may be your man, but this is still my city!" Detective Warren Neal pointed a thick digit in Derek Morgan's face. The acting Unit Chief didn't flinch, too drained from the event in question. In reality, he didn't have to answer the man. He outranked him and had jurisdiction, but playing the FBI card was something Hotch detested, so he wouldn't do it either. "We know our UnSub is a member of this department. We couldn't risk him finding out we were coming and kill Hotch before we could get there. Obviously, it didn't matter since the bastard tried anyways, but we got there in time to save him." Warren stared at Derek inquisitively. "Hotchner survived? How is that possible? The Photographer brutalized him." He was impressed by their colleague's strength, seeing instantly why Aaron was the Unit Chief.

Derek ran his hand across his tired face, nodding slightly. "Hotch is in a coma. We believe the UnSub shot him after Hotch managed to remove his ski mask and figured out who he was in a fit of rage. Right now, he's the only one who can tell us who this bastard is. We just have to wait for him to wake up." _If he wakes up._ Derek no longer had the energy to fight the voices of doubt and self-hatred that were echoing through his mind.

Neal sensed Derek's fatigue and let the disagreement go. There was no need to burden the man further. "Why don't you head back to the hotel and get some rest? CSU is still processing the scene and your team is with Agent Hotchner. I'll call you if we find anything." The elder detective gave Morgan's good arm a reassuring clap before walking away. Derek knew Neal was right, but he just couldn't allow himself to relax while Hotch was fighting for his life and his attacker was still free. No, he still had a list of eighty names to narrow down. No one was safe from suspicion. No one.

---

RAPPAHANNOCK GENERAL HOSPITAL – INTENSIVE CARE UNIT

Richmond, VA

Aaron laid on the hospital bed motionlessly, the only sign of life coming from him the weak beeping of the heart monitor. His bruised and burned skin was a sickening contrast to the white hospital sheet, almost a metaphor for how the UnSub had 'tainted' Hotch. The doctors were in and out of his room, not wanting him to be left unattended for a very long period of time. The team wasn't allowed in the room with the injured man, forced to observe him with Jessica on the opposite side of a glass window that looked into his room.

Various levels of fatigue were present in each person's face, further indicated by the amounts of bad coffee they had consumed. No one dared to leave, afraid something would happen if they did. The doctor's hadn't told them anything since informing them Aaron was in a coma, something they couldn't decide whether it was good or not.

Inside the room, Hotch seemed to peaceful, completely different from what no one could see was going on inside his restless mind.

_He looked around the room at the blood soaked walls. "Where the hell am I?" Hotch's vision was blurry, most likely from a blow to the head. He heard a small boy's sharp cry of pain from behind him. A chill ran down his spine as he reached for his sidearm that was missing, as was his backup. That sob was so familiar. Unable to remain in suspense, Aaron slowly moved towards the noise, stopping at a heavy door. There was another cry of pain before he kicked the door open. He thought he was prepared for what was on the other side. He was wrong._

_ Aaron Hotchner fell to his knees in utter despair at the sight before him. "No…. NO! Jack! No…." The Photographer stood over a decapitated and dismembered Jack Hotchner, a sick Joker-esque grin etched on his face. "Glad you could make it, Aaron." Hotch began convulsing, no longer able to breathe. The eyes in his son's detached head fluttered open and looked at his father disgustedly. "You weak, Daddy. I hate you." The eyes fell closed as everything spun away from Hotch, fading into darkness. He heard beeping in the distance along with a faint yell of 'clear'. His team was too late. Jack was gone._

"CLEAR!" The doctor pressed the defibrillator against Hotch's bare chest in an attempt to bring him back. "Damnit! C'mon Aaron, right!" He rubbed the paddles together again. "CLEAR!" Hotch's back lifted off the bed as the jolt of electricity ran through him. The steady beeping of the heart monitor returned as Hotch returned to the land of the living. Once he was stable, the doctor's left him, Reid the only one watching him now. Jessica had nearly fainted so Rossi had to carry her to the waiting room with Emily and JJ.

Just as Reid was about to join the team, he heard a sharp intake of breath accompanied by the steady increase of beeping from the heart monitor. Hotch was awake, but he was delirious. "Hotch! Hotch calm down!" He gently grabbed the man's wrists, not needing to use much force to restrain him in his weakened state. "That fucking bastard… will pay…" His breathing was labored and his voice was weak as he locked his wild eyes on Reid's. "Spencer… The Photographer… he killed my… son… He killed…" He couldn't say his son's name before he succumbed to a coughing fit. Reid was frozen with shock after hearing the terror in Hotch's voice. It wasn't right.

The young doctor shook his head, not daring to release Hotch from his hold. "No, Hotch, Jack and Jessica were in protective custody. They're here, now, waiting for you to wake up." He saw the confusion in his superior's eyes as he tried to process the information. "But… how? I just saw Jack… he was… his head wasn't even…" Pain caused Hotch's face to contort as he tried to sit up, the gunshot wounds preventing him from doing so. Spencer shook his head as he motioned to one of the nurses. He knew Hotch needed a sedative. In his current state, he was a danger to himself. "Hotch, it was just a trauma induced dream. Jack is fine, I promise." He let go of his superior as the nurse administered a drug into Hotch's IV that sent him into a dreamless slumber. He had to rest to get better.

"Hotch woke up from his coma, but they gave him a sedative. He woke up in a frantic state, yelling about seeing the Photographer kill Jack. It was a nightmare and I assured him that Jack was safe, but the doctors want him resting." Spencer placed his slender hands in his pockets nervously as Jessica gasped in relief. JJ met his eyes inquisitively. "Did he tell you who the UnSub is?" Reid shook his head. "No, he was too panicked. I don't think he even knew where he was. He was just concerned about Jack." She nodded in understanding before turning to Jessica. "Come on, I'll take you back to the hotel. Hotch is going to be ok and you staying up all night won't help him." JJ knew Jessica didn't need to hear the case details the three other agents were going to go over.

Rossi waited until the two women were out of ear shot before speaking. "How bad was it?" Spencer shrugged his shoulders in uncertainty. "He has a severe concussion which certainly isn't helping him any. I think he'll be more lucid and aware when he wakes again." Emily's gaze had drifted over to where Hotch was resting, a thousand thoughts running through her mind at once. "So do we wait for him to tell us who this bastard is? Or do we go back to the list?" It was a good question. For now, they were going to remain at the hospital, per Morgan's orders. Hopefully he would come back with a better idea of who the UnSub was.

The three ventured back over to the chairs and pulled out the files they had brought. There was no reason why they couldn't work on eliminating suspects while they waited for Hotch to wake up. "Ok, Emily and Reid, you get twenty-three each. I'll take twenty-four. Look for something that just seemed to conveniently alibi them that could be explained. Unless there is one hundred percent solid evidence to support said alibi, they stay on the list." Emily and Spencer nodded in compliance with Rossi's orders. It was going to take effort to find this UnSub, but they would do it. They had to.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Ok, I know this chapter is short, but it's necessary! Mostly for me to continue to torture you! Reviews are sadly decreasing, but that's ok. I hope you guys are still enjoying the story. I have already decided which plot to turn into my next story and have begun developing it, so there's something for you to get excited about, I hope! Please, R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds… but I won't be able to fit another story in this notebook…**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence**

---

RICHMOND POLICE DEPARTMENT

Richmond, VA

Morgan stared at the profile in front of him, willing for the UnSub's identity to jump out at him. It had never been this hard to identify an UnSub before. _We've also never been without Hotch on a case like this before. _He shook the fatigue that was trying to overcome him as he huffed in impatience. How could the FBI offered to let him head up the New York office? He couldn't even find this UnSub without his superior there to guide him. "C'mon Derek, snap out of it." Now he was talking to himself. Great.

"Agent Morgan?" Officer Landers, one of the men on the suspect list, peeked his head into the secluded room. "Detective Neal asked me to bring this to you. He said you looked like you needed it. He also said that if you needed any help, you were more than welcome to use my eyes." Derek sipped the coffee as he listened to the Officer's words. He froze as realization hit him. Position of power. Smart. Inserting himself into the investigation. Early to mid forties. He knew who the UnSub was, he just had to go to the hospital to make sure he was right. This bastard was going down.

---

SECOND UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

Undisclosed City, VA

_-- "Missing FBI Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner was found after an extensive search. He was found in a Civil War bunker in the Richmond area. Hotchner is in a coma and in critical condition. The FBI will not release a statement until his attacker is found…"_

"WHAT!?" A glass beer bottle shattered after being hurled at the rotted wall in frustration. The Photographer couldn't believe it. He was still alive? "How the fuck did he survive those gunshot wounds!? These FBI bastards are going to regret saving him." He launched himself from his recliner, preparing himself for his next move. This wasn't over, not by a long shot. Now it was Derek Morgan's turn. "You want me, Derek? Then come get me."

---

RAPPAHANNOCK GENERAL HOSPITAL

Richmond, VA

"I need to see Hotch." Morgan stood a fair distance from the team as they looked up at him. "Keep the nurses and doctors preoccupied. I'll only be five minutes." He didn't even give them a chance to argue as he sprinted down the hall and into the Unit Chief's room. Hotch hadn't been awake but fifteen minutes, barely having a hold on his bearings. "You know… who he is, Morgan…" It wasn't a question, but a statement that he recognized the look in Morgan's eyes. "Hotch, I need you to tell me who you saw, first. I can't make mistakes on this case." Aaron furrowed his brows together as he tried to sift through the hazy memories. Cutting… burning… electrocution… drugs… that horrible smell of burning fish hearts and livers… the pain of the denailing… his orbital bone piercing his cheek… biting the mask… seeing the face of the man who had taken so much from him. He mumbled the name under his breath. Derek jumped up, rage consuming him, and stormed out of the room. He had been right about his suspicions and now, the bastard would pay.

He told the team who the UnSub was and what his plan was, but before all that happened, he needed to make a call. "Detective Neal, this is Agent Morgan. Where can I meet you? I know who our UnSub is. He's in your unit, so we need you there."

---

3065 EOS WAY

Richmond, VA

Derek stopped outside the rotten shack the Detective had given him the address to. Apparently, data that CSU had found led them to this shack and Neal had wanted to check it out. Morgan agreed that it would be their best bet in finding the UnSub. He told Rossi to bring Emily and meet him there while Reid stayed at the hospital to protect Hotch. Dave didn't want Morgan going off on his own, but the acting Unit Chief didn't really have time to wait.

The black agent didn't see the detective's patrol car there yet, or any cars in fact, so he decided to enter without him. Gun drawn in his uninjured hand, Morgan kicked the locked door open before entering slowly. There was no room for mistakes. He cleared the whole house, finding nothing but dingy furniture and empty beer bottles. Another dead end. Derek made his way back to the front door, deciding to wait for Neal in his own car.

As he turned the corner at the base of the stairs, his forehead came into contact with cold metal. A gun barrel. He was staring at the UnSub, unmasked and confident. "Hello, Derek." He gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes. _Let the games begin._ "Hello…"


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Don't hate me because I left you with that cliffie! Well, you can… but the more you hate me the more I am inclined to torment you! Please be sure to continue to R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence**

---

RAPPAHANNOCK GENERAL HOSPITAL

Richmond, VA

Reid tapped his foot nervously on the linoleum floor as he willed the time to pass. He wanted Morgan to call him and tell him he had caught the UnSub and Hotch was safe. He also wanted out of there before his superior began talking to him about a certain narcotic. "Reid, calm down… Let's talk." Too late.

Aaron met the young doctor's nervous eyes, knowing he'd anticipated what was about to be discussed. "Spencer, I don't think any less of you. If anything… I'm prouder of you than… I was before." Reid's eyes carefully darted back to Hotch's as if he were trying to make sure he was being honest, though remained silent. "Look, I realize how addictive that drug can be… I've felt it. And just because you got hooked and I haven't… yet… doesn't make you weak." His hard eyes stared into Reid, trying to ensure the message was getting through the genius's thick skull.

Spencer sighed, tapping his fingers nervously before responding. "It's just… you went through so much more than I did… and you're not even begging for a fix. I'm not strong eno –" "Reid, shut up." Hotch's stern words brought Spencer to a rare moment where he was lost for words, allowing the Unit Chief to speak. "Spencer, you may not have… gone through as severe physical trauma I did, but you went through… psychological hell which made you more vulnerable." He didn't need to remind Reid about his psychological torture. His voice cracked as fatigue began to set in, but he fought it off. Reid needed to hear this. "And… who's to say I'm… not addicted? I'm hyped… up on so much… morphine right now… any craving I might have would… be satisfied." Aaron's voice held a serious air of unarguable seriousness that couldn't be ignored. Before Spencer could even respond, Hotch closed his eyes, speaking in a whisper. "Go get yourself some of your… sugar coffee, Reid. It's going to be a long night…"

The scrawny man stood as a weight seemed to vanish from his shoulders. Not only did Hotch understand, he was proud of Spencer for what he had overcome. He was proud of _him_.

---

INTERSTATE 95

Richmond, VA

"Try him again, Emily." Rossi had turned on the red and blues along with the symphony of sirens as he flew down the interstate to the address Morgan had given them. He had told the younger agent to wait for them, but that argument, much like the one about waiting for SWAT, had proved to be futile. Now, he wasn't answering his phone. "Still no answer and we've got ten more miles." Prentiss grabbed the door handle to steady herself as Dave pushed the accelerator even further. They were not going to lose another agent. "Try Detective Neal. Morgan was supposed to be meeting him." Emily nodded as she dialed the Detective's number, strumming her fingers impatiently as the phone rang.

_-- "This is Neal."_

"Detective!" Emily's voice came out rushed as she released a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "This is Agent Prentiss. Are you with Morgan? He said he was meeting you somewhere and now we can't reach him."

_-- "Uh, no, Agent Prentiss. I'm stuck in traffic downtown. You think something happened to Agent Morgan?"_ He was concerned.

Emily shook her head to inform Rossi that Neal hadn't seen Morgan. Dave drove impossibly faster. "We're not sure. Just let us know if you do hear anything." She closed her phone and pressed it against her forehead in an attempt to suppress the oncoming headache. "Seven miles, Rossi."

---

3065 EOS WAY

Richmond, VA

Derek moved into the kitchen slowly and placed his gun on the kitchen counter per the Photographer's orders. He turned and faced the man he hated so much. The man he had suspected. "Detective Neal." Fury filled his features as the man who had earned a shield, just to use it as a cover, laughed sickly. "Tell me, Derek, did you think you'd be the one to take Aaron's place? I certainly didn't. I mean, you didn't do anything to me. Not like Hotch." He waved his gun, indicating for the black agent to have a seat in the dingy recliner. "What exactly did Hotch do to you?" Morgan was rigid as he focused on the man before him, formulating a plan in his mind. For now, he needed to get Neal talking.

"What did he do!?" Neal's voice was incredulous. "He gave all the credit of my work to that bastard Ferracci! I was ok with it at first, when it wasn't national knowledge. I figured this was a second chance for me. I could live a normal life. Until that fucking book came out and was a national hit! It cited Hotch as the reason for the most sadistic serial killer ever being dead. He took away the infamy and launched his own career, while I rotted here in Richmond. So, I decided to bring things crashing down around him in the best way possible." He sighed in satisfaction as his eyes searched Morgan's grim features.

There were several moments of thick silence before Morgan spoke up again. "The only thing I don't understand is how you received the call from the UnSub in front of five officers." Neal chuckled darkly. "I prerecorded the conversation and memorized it. Then I set up the computer to call me when I knew I would be with the officers. All I had to do was respond at the right times as I scripted and viola! Bye-bye suspicion!" Warren grinned at Morgan's bored glare. "So now you take another FBI agent? You couldn't finish Hotch off. What makes you think you can finish me?" He narrowed his eyes at Neal as he began to laugh again. "Tell you what, if you can beat me in a fist fight – no weapons – I'll let you go. But, since you won't, you'll be my latest victim." Neal tossed his gun out the open kitchen window as Morgan stood from the recliner. He was going to enjoy fucking up the arrogant Detective.

Neal threw the first punch, connecting with Morgan's stomach. The FBI agent was at a disadvantage due to his left arm, but still connected his right fist with Warren's jaw, sanding him reeling. "Nice hit, Derek. That was your one shot." He threw his left fist out at Morgan's broken arm, causing Derek to double over in pain. Warren followed up by slamming both fists against the agent's injured shoulder repeatedly, sending him to the floor. Morgan tried to prop himself back up but Neal delivered a solid kick to his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Morgan was more fairly matched physically to Neal than Hotch was. Neal was about 6'4", 245 pounds and built very strongly, much like Morgan. He realized how lucky Hotch was that he hadn't been killed when he was abducted. This man was very strong. "You're pathetic. No wonder Carl Buford found it so easy to victimize you."

Derek's eyes lit up with rage as he swung his leg out and sent Neal to the floor. He immediately tackled Warren, holding him down with his legs as he delivered punch after punch to the Detective's bleeding visage until he was unconscious and unrecognizable. "Fuck you."

"This is the FBI, open up!" Emily's warning wasn't even given enough time to be given a response before Rossi kicked down the door, his gun falling back to his hip as he spotted Morgan. "Oh all the bull headed, dumb ass, career-ending stunts to pull, _why_ do you choose this!?" He carefully helped Derek to his feet as Emily put cuffs on the unmoving assailant on the floor. She looked back at Morgan incredible. "What the hell happened!?" Morgan shrugged his right shoulder, looking at the unconscious man with burning hatred. "He said I was weak." Emily chuckled as Rossi shook his head and rolled his eyes. The hunt for the UnSub was finally over.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Ok, so now you know who the UnSub is! But, you still don't know how this crazy chica plans to end the fic ;) There are only two more chapters after this one… so enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence**

---

RAPPAHANNOCK GENERAL HOSPITAL

Richmond, VA

"Hey buddy." Aaron smiled weakly as a teary-eyed Jessica walked Jack into the hospital room. "Daddy! You awake!" The young boy pulled away from his aunt and tried to launch himself on the hospital bed, hanging on only by his arms. Hotch forced himself to sit up hiding the excruciating pain radiating from his abdomen with a loving look as Jessica lifted Jack onto the bed and sat in the chair near Hotch, smiling at him tearfully.

"Are you ok?" Jack's big eyes met those of his father's, forcing Aaron to fight back tears. He flashed back to months ago, when he was in the hospital thanks to Foyet. The only difference was that it had been Haley with his son instead of Jessica. A pang of guilt flashed through him before Jack's innocent voice brought him back to reality. "Daddy?" Hotch smiled at his son, gingerly running a bandaged hand through the boy's sandy blond hair. "I'm gunna be ok. The doctors fixed me up and now I just have to rest. Did you have fun with Aunt Jessica?" The little boy nodded vigorously. "I made pictures for you!" Jack dug into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, opening it and laying it on his father's lap.

Aaron couldn't help but smile as he looked at what his son had made. There was a painting of an extremely muscular Hotch with a smiling Jack on his shoulder. Next to them was a giant monster that looked like it was sleeping, except for the X's it had in place of eyes. "That's the bad guy. You beat him because you never lose." Hotch carefully pulled his son into a warm embrace. Jessica let the tears stream down her face as warmth filled her. Both father and son needed this moment.

Their embrace ended as noise filled the hallway of the ICU. Two stretchers were rushed by his room; the first one occupied by a bloodied figure Hotch realized was Warren Neal. His heart jumped with dread as he saw who was on the second stretcher. "Morgan?" His deep voice permeated the hustle and bustle, causing Derek to turn his head and look at his supervisor, pain evident in his features. "I'm fine Hotch, these Paramedics are just over reacting. Can't say the same for Neal, though." His voice faded as he was pushed down the hallway, leaving Aaron with a proud grin on his face. He should have realized Morgan wouldn't let Neal be taken into custody without getting his shots in first.

Jessica pulled a sleeping Jack from his father's bed an hour later, kissing Hotch on the forehead before leaving so Reid could speak with the man privately. Spencer rolled his eyes, waving his arms towards the room Morgan was in. "Derek is already demanding to be released and Neal is still unconscious." He tapped his skinny thighs before sitting in the seat Jessica had vacated. "How are you?" Reid knew it was a stupid question. Hotch was a mess physically and psychologically, the extreme case of PTSD he surely had developed was one of record. The stoic look on Hotch's face reassured what he had assumed. He wasn't going to get anything from him. "Get someone from Richmond PD to take Morgan's statement. You weren't at the scene, so once Neal wakes and is cleared, read him his rights and take him in. Bring JJ with you. You'll need her for the crowd control." Aaron's voice was strong, a telling sign of the relief he felt from not only seeing his son, but the fact that his attacker was finally caught. He was safe.

Spencer nodded before heading out the door to deliver the orders. Hotch wasn't alone long before Rossi joined him, standing in the doorway lazily. "Y'know you're going to have to testify. And to do that, you're going to have to pass a psych eval. So, do you want to start talking now? Or would you rather wait until things are so bad Strauss makes you go to a therapist?" Dave's knowing eyes locked with Hotch's as the Unit Chief rolled his eyes in the slightest. Rossi remained silent as he waited for the words he knew Hotch needed to say. "I was weak. I failed this team and the Bureau." His voice quivered slightly as he stared at the pale white ceiling, avoiding Rossi's look. Aaron blinked back his emotions before continuing. "I gave into the UnSub and his games. I showed him my pain and I showed him –" "That you were human?" Rossi's voice was calm as he sat next to Hotch. "Aaron, what you went through was more than enough to kill any other person, and you're mad because you shouted in pain? That's right, you're Super FBI Agent Aaron Hotchner. So, yea, blacking out after having your finger cut off was unacceptable. If you ever get over these little cuts and bruises you should do the Bureau a favor and resign."

Aaron turned his head to the side and looked at Rossi skeptically. "What, you're not going to offer me your gun this time?" Dave shrugged his shoulders. "I figured you're too weak to hold it." Hotch nodded, sighing to hid the chuckle that was threatening to escape. "Ok, I get it, Dave." Rossi merely smirked. "I do, too, Aaron, but you don't need to worry. Your team was proud of you and they found this UnSub on their own. They believed in you and they still do." Hotch was silent, processing what Dave had said. Maybe he hadn't shamed himself. "Thanks, Dave." The elder agent gave Hotch a warm, half smile. "Anytime."

---

"C'mon man, I'm fine. Just give me my shirt." Morgan jumped off the bed, his arm in a thicker splint and his shoulder wrapped along with his abdomen to support his bruised ribs. "Agent Morgan, you need to calm down." The attending nurse tried to guide Morgan back to his bed, but gave up after the large agent stormed past him. "Freeze, Derek Moran." Penelope Garcia stood behind the shirtless man, unhappy with his defiance. "Derek, you need to rest." He rolled his eyes before looking back at her. "Baby Girl, I'll be fine. Right now, Hotch needs me more." He headed back towards his next stop: Warren Neal's room.

Derek stood on the other side of the glass, looking at the unconscious and beaten man. He couldn't help but feel smug as he eyed the cuffs keeping his prone form connected to the bed. The bastard had finally gotten a taste of what he deserved. He had regained consciousness several times, only to fall into the grasp of darkness yet again a mere five minutes later. Morgan felt a sense of pride at the fact he was strong enough to do that to someone. "You wanna talk?" Emily stood next to Morgan, staring at the hated man laying there. Derek sighed before rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Ok, I went a little too far with roughing him up. But, I had to make sure he wasn't going to get back up." Prentiss nodded, suppressing her smile. Boy had she wished she had gotten her hands on Neal. She knew that she wouldn't have been able to mess him up nearly as badly as Morgan had, but it still would have been fun. "I guess it doesn't matter. He's going to death row anyways." Emily looked at Morgan who was now smiling. "Derek, he's not getting away. Get some rest so you can give your statement without the aid of coffee. I'll stand guard here. JJ is taking you and Reid back to the hotel along with Garcia." Derek placed his right hand on her shoulder graciously. "Thanks."

Emily watched the injured agent walk away. She didn't particularly want to be there, watching over the demon known as the Photographer. She knew he wasn't going anywhere, but they weren't taking chances. After everything that bastard had done, he didn't deserve to breathe fresh air.

---

MARRIOTT COURTYARD HOTEL

Richmond, VA

"Ok, Jessica and Jack are in Hotch's room, Garcia, you're with me, and boys, you're in the same place." JJ distributed room keys to everyone before disappearing into her own room. The media had been hell outside the hospital and even the hotel. She was starting to get tongue tied from telling them 'no comment' so many times. "I need a drink." She pulled out two bottles of liquor from the fridge, tossing one of the miniature sized containers to Garcia. The two blond agents drank in silence. There was nothing more to say.

Spencer and Derek sat on their beds, flipping through the channels aimlessly. The idea they would actually get some sleep was farfetched. Morgan was in excruciating pain, though would never admit it. Spencer was fighting temptations to find some dilaudid and was winning, so far. Neither man was about to discuss their troubles, though. They were too proud, and with recent events, the whole team was feeling even more guarded. For now, they would do this on their own.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: This is by far my most favorite chapter. I don't know why, but I am just so proud of how it turned out! I hope you guys feel the same way! Just to give you a heads up, the next chapter is the last one. So, read slowly and enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, but a girl can dream…**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence**

---

RAPPAHANNOCK GENERAL HOSPITAL

Richmond, VA

Two weeks had passed since Neal had been taken in custody, almost three since Hotch had been found. The Detective was in and out of consciousness, so he remained at the hospital for the time being. Hotch, on the other hand, had made tremendous progress. He was allowed out of his bed, provided he remained in a wheel chair, and was finally eating real meals. His feet had all but completely healed, so he would walk himself around his room when the doctors were gone.

After the first two weeks, when the GSW's had mostly healed, he'd demanded to t least be allowed to wear normal clothes. Of course, to Hotch, that mean suit pants and a dress shirt, but the medical staff agreed to his terms, even allowing him to have his gun back. Hotch needed things to be somewhat normal, and they recognized that. He was tired of being weak.

Psychologically, Hotch wasn't doing as well. As expected, he had closed himself off and insisted he was fine. Everyone knew it was bull shit, but they couldn't get him to open up. His jumpiness and insistence to always be able to see the door were tell-tale signs of PTSD. His thrashing nightmares had startled each and every team member who was staying with him over night, be he'd not even acknowledge he'd been dreaming once they finally woke him. Hotch had convinced himself his injuries were minimal and that the psychological trauma was as bad as it was because he was so weak. As his morphine doses decreased, his dilaudid cravings increased, though he'd never admit it. He hardly spoke to Reid anymore out of fear the young doctor would recognize the symptoms and expose him. He had to be strong.

"Morgan, I'm fine! I can dress myself!" His tone was sharp as he batted away the other agent's helping hand. He was really feeling those cravings. Derek simply stared at the frustrated man, shocked by the emotion he heard in his usually calm voice. "Hotch, relax. I'm your friend. I'm only trying to help." Hotch scowled as he fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. He didn't have full use of his reattached finger yet and it tended to get in the way. After about fifteen more minutes he was finally dressed, holstering his gun on his hip, and started walking around. "Hotch, the doctors –" "Fuck them." Derek stopped and looked at his supervisor incredulously. "What has gotten into you, man?" Aaron faced the black agent with fury in his eyes. "You. All of you. I don't need you patronizing me. I don't need your help." Hotch stormed out of his room, which in his state was more of a trot, leaving a shocked Morgan alone. It was in rare moments like this one that Derek missed Gideon.

---

Hotch had made his way through the hospital unbothered, the angry look on his face and the gun at his hip helping to deter anyone that might have interfered. He was now in an unoccupied room that had yet to be cleaned up. From the look of things, the patient had gone into defib and was rushed into emergency surgery. The doctors hadn't bothered with cleaning the medical supplies in the room in light of the dire situation.

He stood in the room motionlessly, scanning its contents until he found what he wanted: a syringe and a fresh morphine drip. Aaron pulled the syringed into his firm grasp before running his fingers over the plastic bag that contained the precious narcotic. He stood there for what felt like hours, what were only minutes in actuality. He was disgusted with himself. How could he even be considering this?

He exploded with rage as anger came over him, throwing the metal table holding the medical equipment into the wall. Hotch grabbed the sheets of the vacant bed and threw them through the room, letting them flutter to the floor dramatically. He lunged forward and grabbed the phone off the bedside table and hurled it at the mirror, cracking it in the process. Aaron pulled out his sidearm and pointed it at the mirror with fury, huffing in exhaustion. That's when he saw his face, his rage. He saw the monster he was becoming. The cracked glass warped his face slightly, but he could still see the cuts, the anger, the fury. Aaron put his gun back as a single tear fell down his face. He realized in that moment the only person he was disappointing was himself, and only he could fix that. He needed to stop internalizing and admit what happened. He knew just the person to tell.

---

The room showed no sign of life other than the steady beeping of a heart monitor attached to a bloody and broken man. Detective Neal had yet to gain consciousness for more than five minutes before drifting off. Security had left almost a week ago and the round-the-clock doctors stopped coming just two days prior. In all honesty, most everyone in the building hoped he wouldn't wake up. Ever. The man had caused so much pain and terror in the city of Richmond that he didn't deserve to be cared for.

Stillness was interrupted by an erratic beep on the CT scan that went unnoticed by everyone else. Another erratic beep and another. Neal was waking. He blinked his eyes several times, trying to focus on the intricate painting pattern on the ceiling. It looked like a muted camouflage pattern. He slowly turned his head to the side, analyzing the machines whirring next to him. Everything that had happened in the past few weeks rushed back to him, his fists clenching in fury. "Hotchner." His voice was but a whisper as his voice box felt almost rusty.

Neal went to move his hands so he could stretch but quickly found he had been restrained. _Fuck._ He laid his head back and sighed in defeat. He would have to be smart about this. He'd only have one chance to escape. It was time to plan.

---

_Jason,_

_ I realize now why you had to leave. I see how the mental trauma can become too much and how the physical pain can break more than bones. How the UnSub becomes more than someone to bring to justice when they harm someone you love. What I don't understand is how you left._

_ I was stabbed nine times in my own home by a man who later killed Haley. I was held hostage by an UnSub with an agent who had just failed his weapon's qualifications. I was locked in an interrogation room with a man on death row intent on killing me. I was assaulted and strangled within an inch of my life by a man who made killing an art of his own._

_ I was framed by an UnSub who later kidnapped, torture, and attempted to murder me. He ripped my toenails off, drugged me, electrocuted me, cut my finger off, and shot me twice. I was dead for fifteen minutes, but I still could never leave the BAU, even though I should. My son needs at least one parent, but how do you leave the only family you've ever had?_

_ Maybe I don't want to know how. Maybe if I knew, it'll lead to my departure. Maybe I'm not meant to know. And what would I tell them if I did leave? How can I expect Morgan to lead if the UnSubs scared me away? How can I tell Rossi to trust the team if I'm keeping secrets? How can I insist Reid fight his addiction when I succumb to mine? How can I teach Prentiss to keep going if I give up so easily? How can I show JJ that we can make a difference when I leave the job undone? How can I remind Garcia that there are people out there who care when I'm turning my back on everyone? And Jack. How can I teach Jack to persevere, show him how to lead, remind him to love, expect him to be honest, tell him to believe in the good in people, and insist he find his own path when I can't even hold myself together? How do you do this job and not fail? I've not been able to figure that out in the year since Foyet came back._

_ I guess the answer depends on me. On whether or not I can keep pushing. Keep sight of my reasons and of justice._

_ Whether or not I can be Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. I guess what I am trying to say is thanks. Thanks for showing me there's always a choice, and thanks for showing me why I always pick the hard one. Thank you._

_-Hotch_

Aaron put the pen on the hospital bed he was laying on once again before rereading the letter to ensure he hadn't missed anything. He had no intention of sending the letter to Gideon; he had no idea where the man was. Of course, he could easily find the ex-agent if he wanted to, but he didn't want to do that to the man. Gideon had left this life long ago. He didn't need to be dragged back in.

He folded up the letter and placed it into a plain envelope before putting it on the bedside table. The solidarity in his room was nice. He hadn't been alone in over a month, so a moment to think was needed. As it would figure, his moment was ended abruptly when Morgan carefully entered. Hotch looked at Morgan determinedly. "Look, Derek, about earlier…" Morgan raised a dismissive hand. "I already know." Hotch gave him a slight smile which Derek returned warmly. "The team is having a movie and s'mores night with Jack. They're watching Toy Story. I thought you might enjoy Gladiator. No s'mores, though." Derek put the DVD into the player and kicked his feet up on the edge of Hotch's bed.

Hotch knew he didn't need to say anything. Derek could read the appreciation for a normal night on his supervisor's face like a book. A night for him to take his mind off things. A night to be Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Ah, the final chapter. Don't you worry your pretty little heads. I already have another plot cooked up for another epic fic, I just need to get inspired enough to start it. Thank you everyone for your support, reviews, and suggestions! laurkenobi, Hotch_Fan, CMFAN2009, harrietamidala1691, bluesky, GreenIz, Liv, and even you, unviewer. I hope the finale doesn't disappoint!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, but Neal belongs to me!**

**Rating: M for Extreme Language and Graphic Violence**

**---**

RAPPAHANNOCK GENERAL HOSPITAL

Richmond, VA

Another week passed and Neal still couldn't remain conscious. The doctors weren't too concerned, his brain activity was normal, he just wasn't fighting. Hotch, on the other hand, was making great progress both physically and mentally. The team noticed his behavior had improved since the envelope had appeared on his bedside table. No one dared to even touch it, worried it might send the Unit Chief spiraling downwards again.

Hotch had managed to convince the doctors to allow him to walk around the hospital and ditch the wheel chair. The fact that he no longer had to rely on something to transport himself was healing in itself. The bandage over his orbital bone diminished in size and was now a simple band-aid. His bones were healing and so were the physical scars from the torture. Aaron had finally convinced Jessica to go home with Jack and let things return normal. He needed them to move on so that he could.

"Hey, Hotch, the team is heading back to the hotel, but I'm stayin' here in case Neal wakes. You want some coffee?" Emily poked her head into Hotch's room as he made himself comfy on the bed. "No, thank you, though." Prentiss nodded before heading down the hallway. Hotch pulled the envelope into his hands and flipped it over repetitively, closing his eyes in thought.

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Doctor Benson entered the quiet room holding the unconscious Detective. None of the armed guards remained in the room, the doctors having told them that even if he woke he wouldn't immediately be in a state to fight. Benson needed to administer some antibiotics for the injuries he had sustained, so he removed one of the hand cuffs so he could move the man's arm. That was the last mistake he ever had. Neal, who had been faking unconsciousness for almost two weeks, grabbed the key from the doctor before pulling him into a chokehold. The doctor struggled fruitlessly as his life was choked from his body. Once he stopped moving, Neal let him slide to the ground gently. Thankfully, the lights in his room were off and the blinds were shut, so no one bore witness to what had occurred. He moved quickly to unlock the other set of hand cuffs before shakily getting to his feet. After a few minutes he made it over to the small table which held the scalpel he wanted. Now all he had to do was wait for the FBI agent who was chosen to stand guard to come back. "It's not over."

---

Emily sipped the putrid coffee as she headed back towards Neal's room. She would be staying the entire night, so the caffeine was a necessity. Prentiss leaned against the edge of the door frame of the killer's room as a sense of relief overcame her. Neal was caught and unable to harm anyone else, and Hotch was healing. They had gotten the profile right and it had led them straight to their UnSub.

Her thoughts were interrupted as she felt a strong hand wrap into her hair and pull her back, yanking a shout from her before she was in the room. Before she could even reach for it, Neal had stripped her of her gun, keeping his hand in her hair as he pocketed the gun and pressed the scalpel to her throat. "Call for Hotch." Neal's voice was taunting as he put his mouth next to Emily's ear. "Go to hell, Neal." He pushed the scalpel into her flesh, causing her to flinch. "I said, call for Hotch." He licked the blood slowly trickling down her throat as she began to call for her Unit Chief. "Hotch! Hotch, can you come by Neal's room?"

---

Aaron slowly got out of his bed, placing his hand on his weapon skeptically. Something about Emily's voice was off. He saw the spilled coffee just outside Neal's dark room and drew his weapon. This was definitely wrong. "Prentiss?" He moved down the hallway slowly, gun trained on the open doorway. Stepping out from the shadows was Emily, a scalpel still held to her throat. Hotch became rigid with fury as he saw who was behind her. "Let her go, Neal."

Warren smirked as he pushed the scalpel deeper into her throat. "You don't trust the women like the men, do you Hotch? Shame. She's pretty tough." Emily gritted her teeth as he jerked her head back again for emphasis. Aaron's eyes narrowed as he kept his gun trained on Warren. "What do you want?" Neal laughed sickly before backing down the hallway to his left. "A one minute head start or she dies." Hotch shook his head in annoyance. "Why would I give you a one minute head start?" Neal looked at Emily with a glimmer in his eye. "Because it'll take you at least a minute to stop the blood flow."

Hotch realized what Neal meant a second too late. He flashed the scalpel across Emily's snow white flesh as Hotch lunged forward, catching the falling brunette before she hit the ground. Aaron put his hand over the open wound in her throat as best he could as he was forced to watch Neal escape. "MEDIC! SOMEONE HELP!" Hotch was frantic as he looked at Emily's paling face. He couldn't stop the blood flow.

In a blur of motion, three nurses surrounded Hotch and took Emily from him and began to work on stabilizing her. Before they could even order him back in his room, the Unit Chief had taken off after the escaped assailant. It was just Neal and Hotchner.

---

MARRIOTT GENERAL HOSPITAL

Richmond, VA

Reid rolled over in his bed lazily as he patted for his cell phone. "Ugh… shut up…" He pulled his phone to his face to read the number. He recognized the number as of that of the hospital's front desk. "Reid." His voice was groggy and tired, a tell-tale sign that they had woken him.

_-- "Dr. Reid? This is Nurse Marisol at the Rappahannock General Hospital. We're calling because Agent Prentiss has been… injured. I'm afraid I can't tell you anything more."_

Spencer closed his phone in horror. "Morgan… MORGAN!" The black agent woke with a start at Reid's shout, grabbing for his gun instinctively. "Damnit, Reid! What!?" He looked at the expression at the younger agent's face, realizing it was serious. "It's Emily…" That was all he had to say. The team was heading back to the hospital. Immediately.

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RAPPAHANNOCK GENERAL HOSPITAL – GARDEN

Richmond, VA

"NEAL! I know you're up here!" Hotch moved around the garden carefully as he searched for the escapee. He knew he couldn't shoot Warren. No matter what, it would be out of malice, not justice. He had caused so much pain to so many people. He couldn't let that go. "NEAL!"

Laughter echoed around him, disorienting the agent slightly. "Hotch, Hotch, Hotch… why did you come up here without back up?" Neal stepped out in the open, gun in one hand, scalpel in the other. "Oh, that's right, she's a bit busy." Hotch tightened his grip on his gun. "Drop the weapon, Neal." The Detective shrugged, glancing at the gun in his hand. "I don't think so. I mean you're not going to shoot me either way, so where's my incentive?" Aaron looked at him with hatred in his eyes. "So then where do we go from here? Am I taking you down in cuffs or a body bag?"

Warren smirked and looked at Hotch curiously. "Then come over here and arrest me." He tossed his gun over the side of the shrubbery and stood with his arms spread. Hotch moved forward for the scalpel, but was still too slow in his slightly weakened state as Neal slashed him above his brow. "I'll be seein' ya, Hotch." Neal ran through the shrubs and hedges, leaving the bloodied Hotch in confusion.

The team came up behind Hotch, Morgan helping him to his feet. "Hotch, what happened?" Aaron wiped the blood from his forehead wearily. "He got away. I let him get away. He cut Emily…" Rossi blocked Hotch's line of sight, forcing the Unit Chief to focus on the graying agent. "Prentiss is fine. The cut wasn't deep enough to cause serious damage." He placed a hand on Hotch's stiff shoulder, locking his eyes in a serious gaze. "We'll get Neal, Hotch." Aaron nodded in hesitant agreement, looking past Rossi to the setting sun in the distance. "I know. We always do."

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"_Great spirits have always found violent opposition from mediocrities. The latter cannot understand it when a man does not thoughtlessly submit to hereditary prejudices but honestly and courageously uses his intelligence."_ -Albert Einstein

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**A/N: Head over to my LJ and go to the story archive for a preview of my next fic! LJ link is in my profile.**

The Photographer | 2


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